ye good-for-nowt old Jew. What do ye mean by it, eh?" She shook
him as if he had been a lad of ten, and he was helpless in her grip.

"You leave me alone!" he threatened, but all the brag was gone from him.

"Leave--you--alone!" she hissed between her clenched teeth; "I wish to
God I had; but I took ye for better or worse, an' it isn't goin' to be
all worse, I can tell ye! I hearkened to ye while I could 'earken no
longer. The Lord gi' me grace to keep my 'ands off o' ye!"

It was a remarkably futile prayer, seeing that she was holding him as
in a vice, and shaking him at intervals.

"D'ye think I'd ever live 'ere, an' let a poor old man like Ted fend
for hisself anywhere? What do ye take me for? Ye knew better than to
tell me while ye'd gotten yer dirty work done, but thank the Lord I was
just in time. 'Ere, get away! I'm stalled o' talkin' to ye!"

She pushed him away roughly, but he made one more sulky struggle for
mastery.

"Are ye t' boss 'ere, or am I?" he growled; "I've bought it ... an'
I'll live in it."

"Will ye?" she said with scorn, "then ye'll live by yersen. But I'll
show ye who's t' boss. You may thank the Lord 'at ye've got a wife wi'
a bit o' gumption. Ye shall be t' master when ye can master yersen.
I'm fair shamed o' ye! We'll 'appen live 'ere when owt 'appens Ted,
but never as long as 'e wants it; so that's flat!"

The crowd cheered, and Maria brightened visibly. "Nay, to be sure,
Miss 'Olden, an' friends," she said, "to think 'at any 'usband o' mine
should disgrace hisself an' me i' this fashion! I never knew a word,
believe me, while 'alf an hour sin' when I chanced across young
Smiddles, an' he let into me right an' left. I can tell you I didn't
let t' grass grow under my feet afore I set off 'ere. Don't you fret,
Ted, lad! Turn ye out? Not we! Sitha, Barjona's fair shamed of
hisself, an' well he might be. Nay, to be sure, I stood at back on ye
all an' hearkened while my blood boiled. He must ha' been wrong i' his
'ead, Barjona must. Come, friends, get out o' t' gate, an' we'll carry
t' furnitur' in agen, an' soon hev t' place to rights. Now you can
stop that mutterin', Barjona, an' just get into t' trap out o' t' road!"

Many willing hands made the task a light one, and in an hour's time the
cottage had assumed its old aspect, and the women had swept and dusted
and given the finishing touches to everything. Mrs. Higgins was
critical, but expressed herself satisfi