my
words."

"So long!" Nuncey shook the reins, and they started again. "Is that
how sleeves are wearin', up the country?" she asked, after two or
three glances at Hester's jacket.

"They are worn fuller than this, mostly," Hester answered gravely.
"But you mustn't take me for an authority."

"I can see so far into a brick wall as most. Don't tell me! You're
one to think twice about your clothes, for all you look so modest.
Boots like yours cost more than I can spend on mine in a month o'
Sundays; iss, and a trifle o' vanity thrown in. You've a very pretty
foot--an' I like your face--an' your way o' dressin', if you weren't
so sad-coloured. What's that for, makin' so bold?"

"It's for my father."

"There now, I'm sorry!--Always was a clumsy fool, and always will be.
I thought it might be for old Rosewarne, you bein' hand-in-glove with
him."

"But I scarcely knew him. It was only just now I heard the news."--
Hester broke off, colouring again with annoyance. What did these
people mean, that they persisted in taking for granted her complicity
in some mysterious plot?

By and by, at the top of the hill, they overtook the young sailor.

"Got over your sulks, Tom?" inquired Nuncey cheerfully. "If so,
climb up and be sociable--there's plenty room."

But Tom shook his head without answering, though he drew close to the
hedge to let the trap pass. It is difficult to look dignified with a
blackboard, an easel, and a coloured globe on one's back. The globe
absurdly reminded Hester of a picture of Atlas in one of her
schoolbooks, and she could not help a smile. A moment later she
would have given all her pocket-money to recall that smile, for he
had glanced up, glowering, and observed it.

Nuncey laughed outright.

"But all the same," she remarked meditatively as they drove on,
"I like the lad for't. 'Tisn' everyone would do so much for the sake
of an old 'ooman that never has a good word to fling at nobody, and
maybe spanked 'en blue when he was a tacker and went to school wi'
her. He's terrible simple; and decent, too, for a sailor. I reckon
there's a many think Mother Butson hardly used that wouldn't crack their
backs for her as he's a-doing."

"He spoke to me," said Hester, "quite as if I were doing a wickedness
in coming--as if, at least, I were selfish and unjust. And I never
heard of this Mother Butson till half an hour ago! Do _you_ think
I'm unjust?"

"Well," Nuncey answered judiciously, "if