o see me now."

Sir Harry grinned.

"You're always so mortal busy, Jo--I'd feel in your way. Now this little
woman never seems to have much to do. You're a lazy little thing,
Ellen--I don't believe you ever move off the sofa, except to the
piano."

Joanna was surprised to see him on such familiar terms with her
sister--"Ellen," indeed! He'd no right to call her that.

"Mrs. Alce hasn't nothing beyond her housework to do--and any woman
worth her keep 'ull get shut of that in the morning. Now I've got
everything on my hands--and I've no good, kind Arthur to look after me
neither," and Joanna beamed on Arthur Alce as he stirred his tea at the
end of the table.

"And jolly thankful you are that you haven't," said the Squire. "Own up,
Joanna, and say that the last thing you'd want in life would be someone
to look after you."

"Well, it strikes me," said Joanna, "as most of the people I meet want
looking after themselves, and it 'ud be just about waste for any of 'em
to start looking after me."

Arthur Alce unexpectedly murmured something that sounded like "Hear,
hear."

When Joanna left, he brought round her trap, as the saucy-eyed young
groom was having a day off in Rye.

"How've your turnips done?" he asked.

"Not so good as last year, but the wurzels are fine."

"Mine might be doing better"--he stood fumbling with a trace-buckle.

"Has that come loose?" asked Joanna.

"Nun-no. I hope your little lady liked her oats."

"She looks in good heart--watch her tugging. You've undone that buckle,
Arthur."

"So I have--I was just fidgeting."

He fastened the strap again, his fingers moving clumsily and slowly. It
struck her that he was trying to gain time, that he wanted to tell her
something.

"Anything the matter, Arthur?"

"Nothing--why?"

"Oh, it struck me you looked worried."

"What should I be worried about?"

"There's a lot of things you might be worried about. What did you tell
me about your wurzels?"

"They're not so bad."

"Then I can't see as there's any need for you to look glum."

"No more there ain't," said Arthur in the voice of a man making a
desperate decision.

Sec.25

It was not till nearly a month later that Joanna heard that people were
"talking" about Ellen and Sir Harry. Gossip generally took some time to
reach her, owing to her sex, which was not privileged to frequent the
Woolpack bar, where rumours invariably had a large private circulation
before they were fina