“It be a will sure enough,” said Mrs. Tuffin gloomily.  “There, Susan did tell I as that there artful hussy made sure he got it signed an’ all reg’lar.  There’s a few pounds too in the savings bank—­I don’t know if she’d be able to get ’em out or not.”

“Well, I never heerd such a tale.  That maid must be a reg’lar Jezebel, Betty, that’s what she must be.  That hard-hearted, unfeelin’—­Lard ha’ mercy me!  Well, well, well!”

Betty took up her basket again, and was proceeding leisurely towards the door, shaking her head and uttering condemnatory groans the while, when she suddenly gripped her friend by the arm with an eager exclamation.

“There she be!—­there’s the very maid a-walkin’ by so bold as brass with her young man along of her!”

“I shouldn’t wonder,” said Mrs. Haskell in sepulchral tones, “I shouldn’t wonder but what she be a-goin’ up to Susan’s to pick out poor Abel’s things.”

“Dear, do you raly think so?” gasped Betty, almost dropping her basket in her horror.  “Why the noos of him bein’ killed only come this marnin’.”

“I d’ ‘low she be a-goin’ there,” repeated Mrs. Haskell emphatically.  “If I was you, Betty, I’d follow ’em, careless-like, an’ jist find out.  It do really seem like a dooty for to find out.  I’d go along of you only my wold man ‘ull be a-hollerin’ out for his tea.”

A muffled voice was indeed heard at that very moment proceeding from the bedroom, accompanied by an imperative knocking on the wall.

“There he be,” said Mrs. Haskell, not without a certain pride.  “He do know the time so reg’lar as church clock.  He’ll go on a-shoutin’ and a-hammerin’ at wall wi’ his wold boot till I do come.  I do tell en he wears out a deal more shoe-leather that way nor if he were on his feet.”

She turned to go upstairs, and Betty crossing the threshold stood a moment irresolute.  Her basket, full of purchases recently made at the shop a mile away, was heavy enough, and her feet were weary; but Jenny’s tantalising red head gleamed like a beacon twenty yards away from her, and curiosity silenced the pleadings of fatigue.  Hitching up her basket she proceeded in the wake of the young couple, who were walking slowly enough, the girl’s bright head a little bent, the man slouching along by her side in apparent silence.  All at once the observer saw Jenny’s hand go to her pocket, and draw thence a handkerchief which she pressed to her eyes.

“She be a-cryin’” commented Betty, not without a certain satisfaction.  “They’ve a-had a bit of a miff, I d’ ’low; well, if the young man have a-got the feelin’s of a man he’d be like to object to this ’ere notion of hers—­Nay, now, he do seem to be a-comfortin’ of her.  There!  Well!”

They had left the village behind, and Betty’s solitary figure was probably unnoticed by the lovers.  In any case it proved no hindrance to the very affectionate demonstrations which now took place.  Presently Jenny straightened her hat, restored her handkerchief to her pocket, and walked on, “arm-in-crook” with her admirer.