ver, any one accustomed to his
weather-beaten countenance would have probably read a hidden admiration.

'Weel, aa niver!' he exclaimed, when Jim's explanatory remarks had
come to an end, swinging himself up on to his seat and gathering up the
reins. 'Yur a boald 'un to tell the missus theer to hur feeace as how
ya wur' tossicatit whan yur owt ta been duing yur larful business. Aa've
doon wi' yer. Aa aims to please ma coostomers, an' aa caan't abide sek
wark. Yur like an oald kneyfe, I can mak' nowt o' ya', nowder back nor
edge.'

Mrs. Thornburgh wrung her fat short hands in despair, making little
incoherent laments and suggestions as she saw him about to depart, of
which John at last gathered the main purport to be that she wished him
to go back to Whinborough for her precious parcel.

He shook his head compassionately over the preposterous state of mind
betrayed by such a demand, and with a fresh burst of abuse of his
brother, and an assurance to the vicar's wife that he meant to 'gie that
oald man nawtice when he got haum; he wasn't goan to hev his bisness
spiled for nowt by an oald ijiot wi' a hed as full o' yale as a
hayrick's full o' mice,' he raised his whip and the clattering vehicle
moved forward; Jim meanwhile preserving through all his brother's wrath
and Mrs. Thornburgh's wailings the same mild and even countenance, the
meditative and friendly aspect of the philosopher letting the world go
'as e'en it will.'

So Mrs. Thornburgh was left gasping, watching the progress of the
lumbering cart along the bit of road leading to the hamlet at the head
of the valley, with so limp and crestfallen an aspect that even the
gaunt and secretly jubilant Sarah was moved to pity.

'Why, missis, we'll do very well. I'll hev some scones in t'oven in naw
time, an' theer's finger biscuits, an' wi' buttered toast an' sum
o' t'best jams, if they don't hev enuf to eat they ought to.' Then,
dropping her voice, she asked with a hurried change of tone, 'Did ye ask
un' hoo his daater is?'

Mrs. Thornburgh started. Her pastoral conscience was smitten. She opened
the gate and waved violently after the cart. John pulled his horse
up, and with a few quick steps she brought herself within speaking, or
rather shouting, distance.

'How's your daughter to-day, John?'

The old man's face peering round the oilcloth hood of the cart was
darkened by a sudden cloud as he caught the words. His stern lips
closed. He muttered something inaudi