第69部分(第7/7 页)

Old　Mr。　Rivers；　she　said；　was　a　plain　man　enough；　but　a　gentleman；　and　of　as　ancient　a　family　as　could　be　found。　Marsh　End　had　belonged　to　the　Rivers　ever　since　it　was　a　house：　and　it　was；　she　affirmed；　“aboon　two　hundred　year　old—for　all　it　looked　but　a　small；　humble　place；　naught　to　pare　wi’　Mr。　Oliver’s　grand　hall　down　i’　Morton　Vale。　But　she　could　remember　Bill　Oliver’s　father　a　journeyman　needlemaker；　and　th’　Rivers　wor　gentry　i’　th’　owd　days　o’　th’　Henrys；　as　onybody　might　see　by　looking　into　th’　registers　i’　Morton　Church　vestry。”　Still；　she　allowed；　“the　owd　maister　was　like　other　folk—naught　mich　out　o’　t’　mon　way：　stark　mad　o’　shooting；　and　farming；　and　sich　like。”　The　mistress　was　different。　She　was　a　great　reader；　and　studied　a　deal；　and　the　“bairns”　had　taken