what was fitting for her heir; and as Miss Stanbury would not give up her opinion, she could not ask her niece to return to her.  Such had been her resolution, sternly expressed to herself a dozen times during these solitary weeks; but time and solitude had acted upon her, and she longed for the girl’s presence in the house.  ‘Martha,’ she said at last, ’I think I shall get you to go over to Nuncombe Putney.’

‘Again, ma’am?’

’Why not again?  It’s not so far, I suppose, that the journey will hurt you.’

‘I don’t think it’d hurt me, ma’am, only what good will I do?’

’If you’ll go rightly to work, you may do good.  Miss Dorothy was a fool to go the way she did, a great fool.’

‘She stayed longer than I thought she would, ma’am.’

’I’m not asking you what you thought.  I’ll tell you what.  Do you send Giles to Winslow’s, and tell them to send in early to-morrow a nice fore-quarter of lamb.  Or it wouldn’t hurt you if you went and chose it yourself.’

‘It wouldn’t hurt me at all, ma’am.’

’You get it nice, not too small, because meat is meat at the price things are now; and how they ever see butcher’s meat at all is more than I can understand.’

‘People as has to be careful, ma’am, makes a little go a long way.’

’You get it a good size, and take it over in a basket.  It won’t hurt you, done up clean in a napkin.’

‘It won’t hurt me at all, ma’am.’

’And you give it to Miss Dorothy with my love.  Don’t you let ’em think I sent it to my sister-in-law.’

‘And is that to be all, ma’am?’

‘How do you mean all?’

’Because, ma’am, the railway and the carrier would take it quite ready, and there would be a matter of ten or twelve shillings saved in the journey.’

‘Whose affair is that?’

‘Not mine, ma’am, of course.’

’I believe you’re afraid of the trouble, Martha.  Or else you don’t like going because they’re poor.’

’It ain’t fair, ma’am, of you to say so, that it ain’t.  All I ask is, is that to be all?  When I’ve giv’em the lamb, am I just to come away straight, or am I to say anything?  It will look so odd if I’m just to put down the basket and come away without e’er a word.’

‘Martha!’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘You’re a fool.’

‘That’s true, too, ma’am.’

’It would be like you to go about in that dummy way, wouldn’t it, and you that was so fond of Miss Dorothy.’

‘I was fond of her, ma’am.’

’Of course you’ll be talking to her and why not?  And if she should say anything about returning—­’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

’You can say that you know her old aunt wouldn’t wouldn’t refuse to have her back again.  You can put it your own way, you know.  You needn’t make me find words for you.’

‘But she won’t, ma’am.’

‘Won’t what?’

‘Won’t say anything about returning.’