“We did stay outside a-kickin’ of our heels for above half-an-hour, an’ then we did come in—­an’ there they was a-settin’ one on each side of the fire so comfortable as you could wish.  Sarah looked up when I opened the door, an’ she says straight out, ’We’ve pretty nigh settled things, but I shan’t give my promise until I’ve had a look round Mr. Domeny’s place.  I’d like to make sure as it ‘ud suit me,’ says she.

“‘To be sure,’ says John, who was lookin’ a bit puzzled, but very pleasant.  ’To be sure.  Next Thursday—­now what ‘ud ye say to makin’ up a party next Thursday, all on ye, an’ drivin’ over in the arternoon?  I’d have kettle bilin’,’ says he, ‘an’ all set out so well as a poor lone man can do it, an’ maybe one o’ you ladies ‘ud make tea?’”

Mrs. Cross sucked in her breath in token of intensifying enjoyment, and turned her head yet a little more on one side.

“And so?” prompted she, as Mrs. Domeny paused.

“And so, Thursday come, an’ we did get a trap off Mr. Sharpe, an’ we set off.  Brother John was a-standin’ on the doorstep on the look-out for us, and he did lead Mrs. Maidment in and sit her down at the head of the table.

“‘Let’s hope,’ says he, ‘it may be your nat’ral place afore long.’

“She jist smiled back wi’out speakin’; an’ all the time we was havin’ our tea, I could see her eyes a-rovin’ round the room, here an’ there an’ everywhere.  The teapot had a chip out of the spout, an’ she did jist pass her finger along it.

“‘T’ud be easy to get a new un,’ says Brother John, for he knowed what she meant.  An’ then she looks down at the table-cloth—­’It wants darnin’,’ says she.  “Tis easy seen as a woman’s hands be needed here.’

“‘They are, truly,’ says he, lookin’ at her so wistful-like.

“‘Well, we’ll see,’ says she, noddin’ at him very kind.”

“An’ did she really look over everything Mrs. Domeny, my dear?” interrupted Mrs. Cross eagerly.  “She must ha’ been a wonderful sensible woman!”

“You’d ha’ said so if you could ha’ seen her.  There! there wasn’t so much as a pan as she didn’t look into.  Behind the doors, and under the bed; she turned over the very blankets, I do assure ‘ee.  Upstairs an’ down she went, an’ roun’ the yard, an’ down the garden, an’ into the shed.  Poor Brother John kep’ a-trottin’ after her, an’ at last she come back to the kitchen again.”

[Illustration:  THE ROMANCE OF BROTHER JOHN “Poor Brother John kep a trottin’ after her”]

“‘Well, Mr. Domeny,’ says she, ’if ye’ll go to the expense of a few buckets of whitewash, an’ give a lick o’ paint to the door here, I think it ‘ull do very well.’  So they settled the day an’ everythin’ there an’ then.”

“Well, to be sure!” ejaculated Mrs. Cross.  “It do sound jist like a book; an’ talkin’ o’ that, I suppose she did show en the bank-book?”

“She never gave en so much as a sight o’ it, Mrs. Cross, if you believe me.  Kep’ it locked up, she did, and never let him throw his eye over it till the day of her death.  I went up to see en so soon as I heard as all were over, an’ found en cryin’ fit to break his heart.