s. Father went to sea quite put out.
Jane Serlo says the bride did go away at two o'clock. Well, then, it
be long after nine now, Denas!"

"I had a lot to do after Mrs. Burrell left, mother--things she would
not trust anyone else to look to."

"Hum-m! 'Tis no good way, to take such charge. Who knows what she may
be saying after-times? I do feel glad she be married at last, and done
with. Mayhap we may see a bit of comfort ourselves now."

"She gave me twenty pounds before she left, mother."

"There be things twenty pound can't buy nor pay for; I tell you that,
Denas. And to see your father go off with the boat to-night, without
heart in him and only care for company! I do not feel to like it,
Denas. If your lover be dear to you, so be my old husband to me."

"What lover are you talking about, mother?"

"The lover that kept you on the cliff-breast--Roland Tresham, he be
the lover I mean."

"Who told you I was with Roland?"

"I know that you were not at Mr. Tresham's, for one called there to
put you safely home."

"I suppose Tris Penrose has been spying me and telling tales to father
and you."

"There be no need for Tris nor for anyone else to speak. Say to me,
plain and straight, that you were not with Roland Tresham to-night.
Say that to me, if you dare."

"I have had such a happy day, mother, and now you have taken all the
pleasure out of it--a mean thing to do! I say that."

"Your father and I had a happy day, thinking of your happiness. And
then to please that bad young man, who is not of your kind and not of
your kin, you do stay out till bad birds and night creatures are
prowling; till the dew be wetting you; till you have sent your father
off to the deep sea with a heart heavy enough to sink his boat--a mean
thing that to do! Yes! yes! cruel mean thing!"

"Mrs. Burrell gave me twenty pounds. I had to do something to earn
it."

"My faith! I'd fling the twenty pound to the fishes. Aw, then, 'tis a
poor price for my girl's love, and her innocent heart, and the proud
content she once had in her own folk. Only fishers! but God's folk,
for all that! But there! What be the use of talking? After Mr.
Tresham's flim-flams, my words be only muddling folly."

"I am going to bed, mother."

"To be sure. Go your ways."

Then Joan also rose, and went to the fireside, and drew the few coals
together, and lit a lamp. For a moment she stood still, looking at the
closed door between her and her child; then she