Brought Home

Brought Home, by Hesba
Stretton

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Title: Brought Home
Author: Hesba Stretton
Release Date: January, 2005 [EBook #7358] [This file was first posted

on April 20, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: US-ASCII
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, BROUGHT
HOME ***

David Garcia, Tiffany Vergon, Juliet Sutherland, Charles Franks, and
the Online Distributed Proofreaders Team

BROUGHT HOME.
BY
HESBA STRETTON.

CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
UPTON RECTORY
CHAPTER II.
ANN HOLLAND
CHAPTER III.
WHAT WAS HER DUTY?

CHAPTER IV.
A BABY'S GRAVE
CHAPTER V.
TOWN'S TALK
CHAPTER VI.
THE RECTOR'S RETURN
CHAPTER VII.
WORSE THAN DEAD
CHAPTER VIII.
HUSBAND AND WIFE
CHAPTER IX.
SAD DAYS
CHAPTER X.
A SIN AND A SHAME
CHAPTER XI.
LOST
CHAPTER XII.
A COLONIAL CURACY
CHAPTER XIII.

SELF-SACRIFICE
CHAPTER XIV.
FAREWELLS
CHAPTER XV.
IN DESPAIR
CHAPTER XVI.
A LONG VOYAGE
CHAPTER XVII.
ALMOST SHIPWRECKED
CHAPTER XVIII.
SAVED
CHAPTER I.
UPTON RECTORY
So quiet is the small market town of Upton, that it is difficult to believe
in the stir and din of London, which is little more than an hour's
journey from it. It is the terminus of the single line of rails branching
off from the main line eight miles away, and along it three trains only
travel each way daily. The sleepy streets have old-fashioned houses
straggling along each side, with trees growing amongst them; and here
and there, down the roads leading into the the country, which are half
street, half lane, green plots of daisied grass are still to be found, where
there were once open fields that have left a little legacy to the birds and
children of coming generations. Half the houses are still largely built of
wood from the forest of olden times that has now disappeared; and

ancient bow-windows jut out over the side causeways. Some of the old
exclusive mansions continue to boast in a breastwork of stone pillars
linked together by chains of iron, intended as a defence against
impertinent intruders, but more often serving as safe swinging-places
for the young children sent to play in the streets. Perhaps of all times of
the year the little town looks its best on a sunny autumn morning, with
its fine film of mist, when the chestnut leaves are golden, and slender
threads of gossamer are floating in the air, and heavy dews, white as the
hoar-frost, glisten in the sunshine. But at any season Upton seems a
tranquil, peaceful, out-of-the-world spot, having no connection with
busier and more wretched places.
There were not many real gentry, as the townsfolk called them, living
near. A few retired Londoners, weary of the great city, and finding
rents and living cheaper at Upton, had settled in trim villas, built
beyond the boundaries of the town. But for the most part the population
consisted of substantial trades-people and professional men, whose
families had been represented there for several generations. As usual
the society was broken up into very small cliques; no one household
feeling itself exactly on the same social equality as another; even as far
down as the laundresses and charwomen, who could tell whose
husband or son had been before the justices, and which families had
escaped that disgrace. The nearest approach to that equality and
fraternity of which we all hear so much and see so little, was
unfortunately to be found in the bar-parlor and billiard-room of the
Upton Arms; but even this was lost as soon as the threshold was
recrossed, and the boon-companions of the interior breathed the air of
the outer world. There were several religious sects of considerable
strength, and of very decided antagonistic views; any one of whose
members was always ready to give the reason of the special creed that
was in him. So, what with a variety of domestic circumstances, and a
diversity of religious opinions, it is not to be wondered at that the