where he left me, at the Crown Inn we went to, saying he'd be back afore
the week was out. But he never came--only letters came with money--I'll
say that for him. Only no address of where he was, nor scarcely a word
to say how much he was sending. But I kep' my faith towards him; and the
promise I made, I kep' all along. And I've never borne his name nor said
one word to a living soul beyond one or two of my own folk, who were
bound to be quiet, for their sake and mine. Dolly's mother, she came to
know in time. But the Court's called me Aunt M'riar all along."

A perplexity flitted through Uncle Mo's reasoning powers, and vanished
unsolved. Why had he accepted "Aunt M'riar" as a sufficient style and
title, almost to the extent of forgetting the married name he had heard
assigned to its owner five years since? He would probably have forgotten
it outright, if the post had not, now and then--but very rarely--brought
letters directed to "Mrs. Catchpole," which he had passed on, if he saw
them first, with the comment:--"I expect that's meant for you, Aunt
M'riar"; treating the disposition of some person unknown to use that
name as a pardonable idiosyncrasy. When catechized about her, he had
been known to answer:--"She ain't a widder, not to my thinking, but her
husband he's as dead as a door-nail. Name of Scratchley; or
Simmons--some such a name!" As for the designation of "Mrs. Wardle" used
as a ceremonial title, it was probably a vague attempt to bring the
household into tone. Whoever knows the class she moved in will have no
trouble in recalling some case of a similar uncertainty.

This is by way of apology for Uncle Mo's so easily letting that
perplexity go, and catching at another point. "What did he make you
promise him, M'riar? Not to let on, I'll pound it! He wanted you to keep
it snug--wasn't that the way of it?"

"Ah, that was it, Mo. To keep it all private, and never say a word."
Then Aunt M'riar's answer became bewildering, inexplicable. "Else his
family would have known, and then I should have seen his mother. Seein'
I never did, it's no wonder I didn't know her again. I might have, for
all it's so many years." It was more the manner of saying this than the
actual words, that showed that she was referring to a recent meeting
with her husband's mother.

Uncle Mo sat a moment literally open-mouthed with astonishment. At
length he said:--"Why, when and where, woman alive, did you see his
mother?"

"There now