broke into protest. "Delusions!" they exclaimed at
once. Old Mrs. Prichard subject to delusions? Not she! Never was a saner
woman, of her years, than old Mrs. Prichard!

"I only wish," said Uncle Mo, "that I may never be no madder than Goody
Prichard. Why, it's enough to convince you she's in her senses only to
hear her say good-arternoon!" This meant that Uncle Mo's visits upstairs
had always been late in the day, and that her greeting to him would have
impressed him with her sanity, had it ever been called in question.

"On'y fancy!" said Aunt M'riar indignantly. "To say Mrs. Prichard's
deluded, and her living upstairs with Mrs. Burr this three years past,
and Skillicks for more than that, afore ever she come here!" This only
wanted the addition that Mrs. Burr had seen no sign of insanity in all
these years, to be logical and intelligible.

Gwen found no fault, because she saw what was meant. But there was need
for a caution. "You won't say anything of this till I tell you," said
she. "Not even to Mrs. Burr. It would only make her uncomfortable." For
why should all the old lady's belongings be put on the alert to discover
flaws in her understanding? Uncle Mo and Aunt M'riar gave the pledge
asked for, and Gwen went on reading. They just recognised the water-mill
as an acquaintance of last year--not as a subject of frequent
conversation with Dave. Aunt M'riar seemed greatly impressed with the
old lady's excursion out of bed to get at the mill-model, especially at
its having occurred before six in the morning. Also by the dog.

Uncle Mo was more practically observant. When the reading came to the
two mills in Essex, he turned to Aunt M'riar, saying:--"She said summat
about Essex--you told me." Aunt M'riar said:--"Well, now, I couldn't
say!" in the true manner of a disappointing witness. But when, some
sentences later, the reference came to the two little girl twins, Uncle
Mo suddenly broke in with:--"Hullo!... Never mind!--go on"; as
apologizing for his interruption. Later still, unable to constrain
himself any longer:--"Didn't--you--tell--me, M'riar, that Mrs. P. she
told you her father lived at Darenth in Essex?"

"No, Mo, that's not the name. _Durrant_ was the name she said." Aunt
M'riar was straining at a gnat. However, solemn bigwigs have done that
before now.

"Nigh enough for most folks," said Uncle Mo. "Just you think a bit and
see what she said her father's name was."

"She never said his name, Mo. She n