as
though they could eat 'im, and he wasn't used to such treatment. And, as
a matter o' fact, he'd got a very good-'arted face.

"You go out o' that door," ses old Cook, pointing to it. "Go and do your
worst. You won't get any money 'ere."

"Stop a minute," ses Emma, and afore they could stop 'er she ran
upstairs. Mrs. Cook went arter 'er and 'igh words was heard up in the
bedroom, but by-and-by Emma came down holding her head very 'igh and
looking at Jack Bates as though he was dirt.

"How am I to know Charlie owes you this money?" she ses.

Jack Bates turned very red, and arter fumbling in 'is pockets took out
about a dozen dirty bits o' paper, which Charlie 'ad given 'im for
I O U's. Emma read 'em all, and then she threw a little parcel on the
table.

"There's your money," she ses; "take it and go."

Mrs. Cook and 'er father began to call out, but it was no good.

"There's seventy-two pounds there," ses Emma, who was very pale; "and
'ere's a ring you can have to 'elp make up the rest." And she drew
Charlie's ring off and throwed it on the table. "I've done with 'im for
good," she ses, with a look at 'er mother.

Jack Bates took up the money and the ring and stood there looking at 'er
and trying to think wot to say. He'd always been uncommon partial to the
sex, and it did seem 'ard to stand there and take all that on account of
Charlie Tagg.

"I only wanted my own," he ses, at last, shuffling about the floor.

"Well, you've got it," ses Mrs. Cook, "and now you can go."

"You're pi'soning the air of my front parlour," ses old Cook, opening the
winder a little at the top.

"P'r'aps I ain't so bad as you think I am," ses Jack Bates, still looking
at Emma, and with that 'e walked over to Charlie and dumped down the
money on the table in front of 'im. "Take it," he ses, "and don't borrow
any more. I make you a free gift of it. P'r'aps my 'art ain't as black
as my face," he ses, turning to Mrs. Cook.

They was all so surprised at fust that they couldn't speak, but old Cook
smiled at 'im and put the winder up agin. And Charlie Tagg sat there arf
mad with temper, locking as though 'e could eat Jack Bates without any
salt, as the saying is.

"I--I can't take it," he ses at last, with a stammer.

"Can't take it? Why not?" ses old Cook, staring. "This gentleman 'as
given it to you." "A free gift," ses Mrs. Cook, smiling at Jack
very sweet.

"I can't take it," ses Charlie, winking at Jack to tak