“Oh, business!” repeated Eve.  “Business is a very convenient word when you don’t want to tell a person what your real errand is.  Not that I want to pry into Adam’s secrets—­far from it.  He’s quite welcome to keep what he likes from me, only I’d rather he wouldn’t tell me half things.  I like to know all or none.”

Joan looked mystified, and Jerrem, seeing she did not know what to say, came to the rescue.  “I’m sure I’m very vexed if I’ve been the cause of anything o’ this, Eve,” he said humbly.

“You needn’t be at all vexed:  it’s nothing at all to do with you.  You asked me to go, and I said yes:  if I hadn’t wanted to go I should have said no.  Any one would think I’d committed a crime, instead of taking a simple walk, with no other fault than not happening to return home at the very same minute that it suited Adam to come back at.”

“But how is it he’s a seed you if you haven’t a seed he?” said Joan, fairly puzzled by this game of cross-purposes.  “He came home all right ’nuf, and then went off to see whereabouts he could find ’ee to; and ’bout quarter’n hour after back he comes in a reg’lar pelt, and says, ‘You tell Eve,’ he says, ‘that I’m not goin’ to foace myself where I’m told I sha’n’t be wanted.’  Awh, my dear, he’d seed ’ee somewheres,” she continued in answer to Eve’s shrug of bewilderment:  “I could tell that so soon as iver I’d clapped eyes on un.”

“And where’s he off to now?” said Eve, determined to have an immediate settlement of her wrongs.

“I can’t tell:  he just flung they words at me and was gone.”

Eve said no more, but with the apparent intention of taking off her hat went up stairs, while Joan, bidding Jerrem go and see if Uncle Zebedee was roused up yet, returned to her previous occupation of preparing the tea.  When it was ready she called out, “Come ’long, Eve;” but no answer was returned.  “Tay’s ready, my dear.”  Still no reply.—­“She can’t ha’ gone out agen?” thought Joan, mounting the stairs to ascertain the cause of the silence, which was soon explained by the sight of Eve flung down on the bed, with her head buried in the pillow.—­“Now, whatever be doin’ this for?” exclaimed Joan, bending down and discovering that Eve was sobbing as if her heart would break.  “Awh, doan’t cry now, there’s a dear:  ’t ’ull all come straight agen.  Why, now, you’ll see Adam ’ull be back in no time.  ‘Twas only through bein’ baulked when he’d a come back o’ purpose to take ’ee out.”

“How was I to know that?” sobbed Eve.

“No, o’ course you didn’t, and that’s what I told un.  But, lors! ’tis in the nature o’ men to be jealous o’ one ’nother, and with Adam more partickler o’ Jerrem; so for the future you must humor un a bit, ’cos there’s things atwixt they two you doan’t know nothin’ of, and so can’t allays tell when the shoe’s pinchin’ most.”

“I often think whether Adam and me will be happy together,” said Eve, sitting up and drying her eyes.  “I’m willing to give in, but I won’t be trampled upon.”