is; and, as if all this misfortune wasn't enough I've just
heard of the death of my only brother, Nathan Coaker, in Ireland."

"That terrible handsome man, as had all the girls by the ears in
Postbridge afore he went off?"

"Yes--only thirty-five--killed steeple-chasing. He was a huntsman, you
know, and a great breaker of hosses. And now one's broke him. Dead and
buried, and nought for me but his watch and chain and a bill from his
undertaker. It happened in Ireland three weeks ago; and I've only heard
tell to-day; and I thought if Mary Tuckett knowed, 'twould soon have
turned her laughter into tears, for she was cruel fond of him, and wept an
ocean when he went. In fact, they was tokened on the quiet unknown to her
father, and Nathan hoped to marry her some day and little knew she'd
forgot all about her solemn promise."

"I'm very sorry for you. I'll think about this. It don't look hopeful, for
Peter Hacker's very hard all through where women are concerned. There's no
milk of human kindness in him, and he don't like me. He thinks--poor
fool--that I overlooked his prize bullock, that died three days afore
'twas to start to the cattle show."

"He might be tenderer, for he's only human, after all," said Mrs. White.
"He's courting that very girl that was here a minute agone. In fact, they
be plighted, I believe. It do make me bitter when I think upon it, for my
poor Nathan's sake. She had sworn to marry my brother, remember, for
Nathan told me so, and, no doubt, he counted upon it to the end of his
days. But out of sight out of mind with her sort. Peter's riches have made
her forget Nathan's beautiful face. And now he's in his grave."

"Stop!" says Charity. "You'm running on too fast. Let me think a minute.
There's a lot here wants sifting. Let's come to business, my dear, and
stick to the point. You want your cottage and you want Johnny French. What
will you give me if I get your cottage for 'e out of Peter?"

Mrs. White was known to have saved a little bit, or, rather, her late
husband had for her. He was a lot older than her, and had thought the
world of her.

"I'll give 'e a five-pound note," she said at last.

"And what if I get Johnny French up to the scratch also?"

"If you do one, you'll do t'other," said Sarah. "He depends on the
cottage, and won't take me without it, but be very willing to have both
together. Still, I'll meet you gladly if there's anything you can do, and
the day I'm wed I'll give you an