of deep inconvenience, and Nelly Bascombe seemingly weren’t so much on his side as he had hoped.  Of course the woman well knew that life at Wych Elm would be far more unrestful with Jane than without her, and so she rather took the maiden’s view and tried to make John see it might be better if his girl was to leave ’em.  And this she did because it happened, after a week had passed, she knew a lot more about the truth than Mr. Warner could.  He still clung to the hope that Jane was lying and that no man wanted her; and even if such man existed, John, well understanding that his daughter was not the sort to fill the male eye in herself, doubted not that the lover would soon cry off if he heard Jane’s prospects were gone.  He voiced this great truth to Nelly Bascombe, and he’d have been a good bit surprised to know that on the very day he did so, she reported his intentions word for word to the man most interested.  Because, when the situation unfolded, Martin Ball had gone to Mrs. Bascombe in hope to get some useful aid from her.

They were acquaint, because Nelly sold Ball’s honey in her shop, but more than that Martin didn’t know of the woman.  She had a good name for sense, however, and when he heard that she had taken Warner, he saw what her power must now be in that quarter and asked for a tell in private.  Which she was agreeable to give him, and in truth they saw each other a good few times and traversed over the situation most careful.

Nelly had a way to understand men and she listened to Martin and liked the frank fashion he faced life.  He was honest as the day, though fretting a bit because Jane Warner wouldn’t say “Yes” and be done with it.  He’d wanted to go to her father, too, and let John know his hopes; but that Jane wouldn’t allow at this stage of the affair.

“In fact, she won’t let me whisper a word,” said Martin to Mrs. Bascombe, “and ’tis treason to her in a way my coming to you at all; but I feel terrible sure you can help, and it looks as if it would be all right and regular and suit everybody if she was to take me and leave the coast clear for you when you wed her parent.”

“It does look like that to a plain sight,” admitted Nelly, “but in truth things be very different.  And for your confidence, in strict secrecy, I can give you mine.  Warner don’t want her to go.  He badly wants me and her both, while, for her part, she don’t want to go and hates the thought; but, so far, she’s determined to do so if I come.”

“That ain’t love, however,” argued Mr. Ball.

“It ain’t,” admitted Nelly Bascombe, “and you mustn’t fox yourself to think she’ll come to you for love.  A good helper she’d be to any man in her own way; but she belongs to the order of women who can’t love very grand as a wife.  She do love as a daughter can love a father, however, and it’s very clear to me that John Warner is her life in a manner of speaking.  On the other hand, it would upset her existence to the very roots if I went to Wych Elm at farmer’s right hand, where naturally I should be.”