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inside. “Oh, Lard! stop the churn! let me out!” says he, popping out his head, “I shall be churned into a pummy!” (he was a cowardly chap in his heart, as such men mostly be). “Not till you make amends for ravaging her trustful innocence!” says the old woman. “Stop the churn, you old witch!” screams he. “You call me old witch, do ye, you deceiver!” says she, “when ye ought to ha’ been calling me mother-law these last five months!” And on went the churn, and Jack’s bones rattled round again. Well, none of us ventured to interfere; and at last ’a promised to make it right wi’ her, “Yes—I’ll be as good as my word!” he said. And so it ended that day.’

While the listeners were smiling and commenting there was a quick movement behind their backs, and they looked round. Tess, pale-faced, had gone to the door.

‘How warm it is to-day!’ she said, almost inaudibly.

It was warm, and none of them connected her withdrawal with the reminiscences of the dairyman. He went forward, and opened the door for her, saying with tender raillery—

‘Why, maidy’ (he frequently, with unconscious