tenacity, watches the flickering of the flame or the sun-gleams on the wall, counts the quarries on the floor, watches even the hand of the clock, and pleases itself with detecting a rhythm in the tick.
"What a time o' night this is to come home, Hetty," said Mrs Poyser. "Look at the clock, do; why, it's going on for half-past nine, an' I've sent the gells to bed this half-hour, and late enough too, when they've got to get up at half after four, and the mowers' bottles to fill, and the baking; and here's this blessed child wi' the fever for what I know, and as wakeful as if it was dinner-time, and nobody to help me to give her the physic but your uncle, and fine work there's been, and half of it spilt on her night-gown—it's well if she's swallowed more nor 'ull make her worse istead o' better. But folks as have no mind to be o' use, have allays the luck to be out o' the road when there's anything to be done."
"I did set out before eight, aunt," said Hetty, in a pettish tone, with a slight toss of her head. "But this clock's so much before the clock at the Chase, there's no telling what time it'll be when I get here."
"What, you'd be wanting the clock set by gentlefolks's time, would you? an' sit up burnin'
