spend a day with Mrs. Burrell. When she
sent Mr. Burrell word the day she would come the carriage would call
for her."

"If you mean the day I can spare you best, I cannot spare you at all
this week. There now!"

"I am not thinking of you sparing me, Priscilla. I am waiting for a
fine day."

"Upon my word! Am I your mistress or are you mine? And what is more,
that Roland Tresham is not coming here again. I have some conscience,
thank goodness! and I will not sanction such ways and such carryings
on any longer. He is a dishonourable young man."

"Has he not paid you, Priscilla?"

Before Priscilla could find the scathing words she required, an
hostler from the Black Lion entered the shop and put a letter into the
hand of Denas.

Priscilla turned angrily on the man and ordered him to leave her shop
directly. Then she said: "Denas Penelles, you are a bad girl! I am
going to write to Mrs. Burrell this day, and to your father and mother
also."

"I would not be a fool if I was you, Priscilla."

Denas was reading the letter, and softly smiling as she uttered the
careless words. For indeed affairs were at a point now where
Priscilla's interference would hurt herself more than others. The note
was, of course, from Roland. It told her that all was ready, and that
the weather being so bad as to render walking very tiresome and
miserable, he had engaged a carriage which would be waiting for her on
the west side of the parish church at seven o'clock that night; and
her lover would be waiting with it, and if Roland was to be believed,
everything joyful and marvellous was waiting also.

This letter was the only sunshine throughout the day. Priscilla's bad
temper was in the ascendant, both in the shop and in the workroom. She
scolded Denas for working so slowly, she made her unrip whatever she
did. She talked at Denas in talking to the other girls, and the girls
all echoed and shadowed their mistress' opinions and conduct. Denas
smiled, and her smile had in it a mysterious satisfaction which all
felt to be offensive. But for the certain advent of seven o'clock, the
day would have been intolerable.

About half-past six she put on her hat and cloak, and Miss Priscilla
ordered her to take them off. "You are not going outside my house
to-night, Denas Penelles," she said. "If you sew until ten o'clock,
you will not have done a day's work."

"I am going home, Priscilla. I will work for you no more. You have
behaved shamefully