He hesitated, and then he proved what a wise and experienced man he was.

“No,” he said, “I’ll none bet ye, lass.”

He had struck his flag.

It is painful to be compelled to reinforce the old masculine statement that women have no sense of honour.  But have they?  Helen clearly saw that he had hauled down his flag.  Yet did she cease firing?  Not a bit.  She gave him a shattering broadside, well knowing that he had surrendered.  Her disregard of the ethics of warfare was deplorable.

“Two pounds and one half-penny—­to the nearest farthing,” said she, a faint blush crimsoning her cheek.

Mr. Ollerenshaw glanced round at the bowling-green, where the captain in vain tried to catch his eye, and then at the groups of children playing on the lower terraces.

“I make no doubt ye can play the piano?” he remarked, when he had recovered.

“Certainly,” she replied.  “Not that we have to teach the piano.  No!  But it’s understood, all the same, that one or another of us can play marches for the children to walk and drill to.  In fact,” she added, “for something less than thirty shillings a week we do pretty nearly everything, except build the schools.  And soon they’ll be expecting us to build the new schools in our spare time.”  She spoke bitterly, as a native of the Congo Free State might refer to the late King of the Belgians.

“Thirty shillings a wik!” said James, acting with fine histrionic skill.  “I thought as you said seventy-two pounds a month!”

“Oh no, you didn’t!” she protested, firmly.  “So don’t try to tease me.  I never joke about money.  Money’s a very serious thing.”

("Her’s a chip o’ th’ owd block,” he told himself, delighted.  When he explained matters to himself, and when he grew angry, he always employed the Five Towns dialect in its purest form.)

“You must be same as them hospital nurses,” he said, aloud.  “You do it because ye like it—­for love on it, as they say.”

“Like it!  I hate it.  I hate any sort of work.  What fun do you suppose there is in teaching endless stupid children, and stuffing in classrooms all day, and correcting exercises and preparing sewing all night?  Of course, they can’t help being stupid.  It’s that that’s so amazing.  You can’t help being kind to them—­they’re so stupid.”

“If ye didn’t do that, what should ye do?” James inquired.

“I shouldn’t do anything unless I was forced,” said she.  “I don’t want to do anything, except enjoy myself—­read, play the piano, pay visits, and have plenty of really nice clothes.  Why should I want to do anything?  I can tell you this—­if I didn’t need the money I’d never go inside that school again, or any other!”

She was heated.

“Dun ye mean to say,” he asked, with an ineffable intonation, “that Susan and that there young farmer have gone gadding off to Canada and left you all alone with nothing?”