The dealer sighed and looked mournfully at Mrs. Pullen.  The lady sighed in return, and finding that her admirer’s stock of conversation seemed to be exhausted, coyly suggested a game of draughts.  The dealer assented with eagerness, and declining the offer of a glass of beer by explaining that he had had one the day before yesterday, sat down and lost seven games right off.  He gave up at the seventh game, and pushing back his chair, said that he thought Mrs. Pullen was the most wonderful draught-player he had ever seen, and took no notice when Mrs. Tidger, in a dry voice charged with subtle meaning, said that she thought he was.

“Draughts come natural to some people,” said Mrs. Pullen, modestly.  “It’s as easy as kissing your fingers.”

Mr. Miller looked doubtful; then he put his great fingers to his lips by way of experiment, and let them fall unmistakably in the widow’s direction.  Mrs. Pullen looked down and nearly blushed.  The carpenter and his wife eyed each other in indignant consternation.

“That’s easy enough,” said the dealer, and repeated the offense.

Mrs. Pullen got up in some confusion, and began to put the draught-board away.  One of the pieces fell on the floor, and as they both stooped to recover it their heads bumped.  It was nothing to the dealer’s, but Mrs. Pullen rubbed hers and sat down with her eyes watering.  Mr. Miller took out his handkerchief, and going to the scullery, dipped it into water and held it to her head.

“Is it better?” he inquired.

“A little better,” said the victim, with a shiver.

Mr. Miller, in his emotion, was squeezing the handkerchief hard, and a cold stream was running down her neck.

“Thank you.  It’s all right now.”

The dealer replaced the handkerchief, and sat for some time regarding her earnestly.  Then the carpenter and his wife displaying manifest signs of impatience, he took his departure, after first inviting himself for another game of draughts the following night.

He walked home with the air of a conqueror, and thought exultingly that the two thousand pounds were his.  It was a deal after his own heart, and not the least satisfactory part about it was the way he had got the better of Wiggett.

He completed his scheme the following day after a short interview with the useful Smith.  By the afternoon Wiggett found that his exclusive information was common property, and all Thatcham was marvelling at the fortitude with which Mrs. Pullen was bearing the loss of her fortune.  With a view of being out of the way when the denial was published, Mr. Miller, after loudly expressing in public his sympathy for Mrs. Pullen and his admiration of her qualities, drove over with some pigs to a neighbouring village, returning to Thatcham in the early evening.  Then hurriedly putting his horse up he made his way to the carpenter’s.

The Tidgers were at home when he entered, and Mrs. Pullen flushed faintly as he shook hands.