“Who is that wishes to enter?”

“The boy who was at the pump,” said I, “when the carriage broke down at Dulverton.  The boy that lives at oh—­ah; and some day you would come seek for him.”

“Oh, yes, I remember certainly.  My leetle boy, with the fair white skin.  I have desired to see him, oh many, yes, many times.”

She was opening the door, while saying this, and then she started back in affright that the little boy should have grown so.

“You cannot be that leetle boy.  It is quite impossible.  Why do you impose on me?”

“Not only am I that little boy, who made the water to flow for you, till the nebule came upon the glass; but also I am come to tell you all about your little girl.”

“Come in, you very great leetle boy,” she answered, with her dark eyes brightened.  And I went in, and looked at her.  She was altered by time, as much as I was.  The slight and graceful shape was gone; not that I remembered anything of her figure, if you please; for boys of twelve are not yet prone to note the shapes of women; but that her lithe straight gait had struck me as being so unlike our people.  Now her time for walking so was past, and transmitted to her children.  Yet her face was comely still, and full of strong intelligence.  I gazed at her, and she at me; and we were sure of one another.

“Now what will ye please to eat?” she asked, with a lively glance at the size of my mouth:  “that is always the first thing you people ask, in these barbarous places.”

“I will tell you by-and-by,” I answered, misliking this satire upon us; “but I might begin with a quart of ale, to enable me to speak, madam.”

“Very well.  One quevart of be-or;” she called out to a little maid, who was her eldest child, no doubt.  “It is to be expected, sir.  Be-or, be-or, be-or, all day long, with you Englishmen!”

“Nay,” I replied, “not all day long, if madam will excuse me.  Only a pint at breakfast-time, and a pint and a half at eleven o’clock, and a quart or so at dinner.  And then no more till the afternoon; and half a gallon at supper-time.  No one can object to that.”

“Well, I suppose it is right,” she said, with an air of resignation; “God knows.  But I do not understand it.  It is ‘good for business,’ as you say, to preclude everything.”

“And it is good for us, madam,” I answered with indignation, “for beer is my favourite beverage; and I am a credit to beer, madam; and so are all who trust to it.”

“At any rate, you are, young man.  If beer has made you grow so large, I will put my children upon it; it is too late for me to begin.  The smell to me is hateful.”