berately, "that you and me
aren't liking each other as much as we should ought."

"Really, Miss Godden. I don't see why you need say that."

"Well, we don't like each other, do we? Leastways, you don't like me.
Now"--lifting a large, well-shaped hand--"you needn't gainsay me, for I
know what you think. You think I was middling rude to Mr. Pratt in
Pedlinge street that day I first met you--and so I think myself, and I'm
sorry, and Mr. Pratt knows it. He came around two weeks back to ask
about Milly Pump, my chicken-gal, getting confirmed, and I told him I
liked him and his ways so much that he could confirm the lot, gals and
men--even old Stuppeny who says he's been done already, but I say it
don't matter, since he's so old that it's sure to have worn off by this
time."

Martin stared at her with his mouth open.

"So I say as I've done proper by Mr. Pratt," she continued, her voice
rising to a husky flurry, "for I'll have to give 'em all a day off to
get confirmed in, and that'll be a tedious affair for me. However, I
don't grudge it, if it'll make things up between us--between you and me,
I'm meaning."

"But, I--I--that is, you've made a mistake--your behaviour to Mr. Pratt
is no concern of mine."

He was getting terribly embarrassed--this dreadful woman, what would she
say next? Unconsciously yielding to a nervous habit, he took off his cap
and violently rubbed up his hair the wrong way. The action somehow
appealed to Joanna.

"But it is your concern, I reckon--you've shown me plain that it is. I
could see you were offended at the Farmers' Dinner."

A qualm of compunction smote Martin.

"You're showing me that I've been jolly rude."

"Well, I won't say you haven't," said Joanna affably. "Still you've had
reason. I reckon no one ud like me better for behaving rude to Mr.
Pratt ..."

"Oh, damn Mr. Pratt!" cried Martin, completely losing his head--"I tell
you I don't care tuppence what you or anyone says or does to him."

"Then you should ought to care, Mr. Trevor," said Joanna staidly, "not
that I've any right to tell you, seeing how I've behaved. But at least I
gave him a harmonium first--it's only that I couldn't abide the fuss he
made of his thanks. I like doing things for folks, but I can't stand
their making fools of themselves and me over it."

Trevor had become miserably conscious that they were standing in the
middle of the road, that Joanna was not inconspicuous, and if she had
been, her voice w