nd
went early to bed. Her restless spirit could not be satisfied with so
little companionship. Naturally fond of admiration, she thought no harm
of talking and joking with the men, and her gossips encouraged her in
it. The very same "gossips" reported her freedom to Absalom--very much
exaggerated. Absalom said nothing. He was slow to understand any new
idea. On her road home from her work Madge had to come down a lane with
but one solitary cottage in it. It belonged to an itinerant tinker, his
own property, only paying quit-rent of a shilling a year. He was a
bachelor, a gipsy sort of fellow, full of fun and rollicksome mirth,
better educated than the labourers, and with a store of original ideas
which he had acquired in travelling about. This fellow--"Bellows," as
he was called--admired Madge exceedingly, and had tried to win her for
himself, but failed. Still, what pretty woman was ever displeased with
the attentions of a smart young fellow? After her marriage "Bellows"
courted her more and more. It became a "talk," as the country people
call it. Madge, thinking her title as wife exonerated her from all
remarks, perhaps allowed him to go further than she ought, but, in
strict earnestness, meant no harm. These things came to Absalom's ears.
He grew fonder and fonder of the public-house. Still, at home he said
nothing.

It grew to be winter. One cold, frosty, but beautiful moonlight night
Absalom came home late from his work. He had been sent up on the hills
with some sheep, and did not return till two hours after his usual time.
Weary and hungry, and not in the best of tempers, he walked in. The door
was ajar, and there were some embers on the hearth, but Madge was
neither in sight nor call. Eager for his supper, Absalom went out, and
soon learned that she had gone up to the "Good Woman." Madge indeed,
finding he did not come home, had gone up there to look for him.
"Bellows" was there, and the landlord and he had been drinking pretty
freely. No sooner did Madge come in than the landlord blew out the
candle, slipped out, and locked the door with a loud guffaw, leaving the
pair alone in the dark. Unable to escape, Madge sat down, and they
chatted away gaily enough.

It was thus that Absalom found them. He said nothing when he learnt
where Madge was, but left the house and walked back to the cottage.
Alarmed at his sullen demeanour, the landlord unlocked the door. Madge
flew back to the cottage.

"Ab," said she, rush