"Howd your din," she cried angrily, "or else tak' yoursel' off. I'll noan stand by an' hear sich talk i' my place."

Ted, feeling he had made rather an inauspicious beginning, suddenly became lamb-like.

"No offence," he pleaded humbly. "Mun I carry your basin for you into th' house?"

Margaret looked over her shoulder and snorted; then, without returning yea or nay, she stalked over the cobble-stones and entered her kitchen, followed meekly by her visitor. Miss Heptonstall did not turn her head until the sound of Ted's boots, falling upon her tiled floor, made her look round sharply.

"If ye're for coomin' in ye'd best wipe your feet," she announced briefly.

Ted obediently retraced his steps and polished his boots on the mat outside the door. Then he re-entered, walking gingerly on the tips of his toes, and casting about in his mind for a suitable topic with which to inaugurate the conversation. Margaret's spare angular figure and sharp-featured face did not look encouraging; but surely never before was seen such a dazzling white ap.r.o.n, such a stiffly starched collar, such spotless cuffs. Margaret's cleanliness had in it, it was true, an aggressive quality, but Ted admired it nevertheless. The kitchen and all its appurtenances bore witness to the same scrupulous nicety. No floor in Thornleigh village was raddled so carefully, no fire-irons glittered so bravely; the very walls seemed to shine; and as for the pots and pans they positively winked at one another in the ruddy glow. Ted rested a sunburnt hand on each of his knees, drew a long breath, and remarked fervently--

"Ye mun be wonderful house-proud, Miss Heptonstall."

He could not have chosen a more pleasing theme; Margaret wrinkled up her nose with a sniff and a smile.

"Well, I believe I'm reckoned to be," she remarked modestly; "theer's nought else i' this world as I care for mich, but I'm wonderful fond o' cleanin' and scrubbing', an' I've allus said I'd sooner do things for mysel' nor let onybody do it for me."

Ted sighed and cast up his eyes.

"It seems a pity, Miss Heptonstall, as it's only yoursel' ye're doin'

it for--"

"Why so?" interrupted Margaret snappishly.

"Well, it seems sich terrible waste, ye know. It seems a pity ye shouldn't be doin' for s...o...b..y else at th' same time."

"I dunnot want to do for n.o.bry, n.o.bbut mysel'," returned Margaret with a toss of her head. "Did ye think I'd be for takkin' lodgers at this time o' day?" she added suspiciously. "Nay, nay, I'll noan ha'

strangers here, botherin' an' messin' about."

"Eh, I wasn't thinkin' o' strangers," explained Wharton, hitching his chair a little nearer. "I were jest wonderin' to mysel', seein' you're so manageable an' clever an' that, as you hadn't never thought o'

gettin' wed an' doin' for a husband as well as yoursel'. I raly do wonder, Miss Heptonstall," he repeated insinuatingly, "as ye haven't getten wed."

He expected Margaret to be surprised and flattered, but she gave no indication of being either the one or the other. She fixed her steely blue eyes sternly on the visitor, and inquired stiffly what he thought she wanted a husband for, and what use he reckoned sich-like 'ud be to her. Ted edged his chair yet a little nearer, and thrust forward his face till it was within a yard of Margaret's.

"A good husband 'ud be a great comfort to ye, Miss Heptonstall," he urged. "He'd--he'd love ye, ye know"--(hesitating)--"an' work for ye."

This last was said with more a.s.surance. Margaret appeared unconvinced.

"Eh, he'd be more bother than he was worth," she remarked trenchantly.

"Think 'o th' litter alone he'd mak' coomin' in an' out o' th' house.

It's bad enough to be cleanin' up arter th' cats an' the dog--poor dumb things, they knows no better! But a mon stumpin' in an' out wi's dirty boots, an' clooes as 'ud allus want mendin', an' stockin's weerin' at th' 'eel! Eh, theer'd be no end to 't! An' then th' doin' for; gettin's mate an' that--turnin' up 's nose very like--ill-satisfied wi'

a washin'-day dinner! Nay, nay, I'd sooner bide as I am wi' n.o.bbut mysel'

to look to."

Ted threw back his head and coughed behind his hand, nonplussed for the moment; presently, noting that the practical side of the case was the only one likely to meet with favour, he resumed artfully--"Think how coomfortable it 'ud be of a rainy day, i'stead o' startin' out i'

th' wet to feed pig an' do for chickens, to say to your gaffer, 'Sitha, thou mun see to they things afore thou goes to thy wark'--an'

of an evening, when he' coom awhoam, ye could set him to get th'

'taters, an' chop wood an' that."

Margaret crossed her arms and appeared to reflect.

"An' of a Sat.u.r.day--pay day, ye know--ye'd jest say: 'Hand o'er, wilto?' An' he'd hand o'er."

A faint smile began to play about the lady's lips; she leaned back in her chair and looked attentively at Ted.

"'Tisn't everybody as 'ud be willin' to do that," she remarked after a pause; "theer's a mony as 'ud sooner spend their bra.s.s at th'

Thornleigh Arms."

Ted privately thought this extremely likely, but he a.s.sumed an air of virtuous indignation.

"Theer's chaps an' chaps! I reckon if onybody was to ax to wed _you_, Miss Heptonstall, he'd be a steady-goin' sort o' fellow as wouldn't be up to they mak' o' games."

Margaret smiled outright. Ted thought he would follow up his advantage and clinch the point at once.

"Now, Miss Heptonstall," said he, "for instance, if _I_ was to coom coortin' ye, I wouldn't be thinkin' of onything but makkin' ye coomfortable. I reckon ye'd mak' _me_ coomfortable"--(with an air of great fairness and impartiality)--"that's wheer 'tis; it 'ud be 'give an' take, give an' take.' I feel dreadful lonely of an evenin', an'

it's a sad thing when a man allus has to do for hissel'. I'd be thankful if ye'd have me--"

"I reckon ye would," interrupted Margaret with disconcerting frankness; "I've a good bit o' bra.s.s saved."

This was news to Ted, and he looked at her with genuine interest.

"Have ye?" said he. "I raly didn't know. Well, I'm doin' pratty well too, an' I've got a nice little place--"

"Nay," put in Margaret, "it isn't mich of a place; this here's twice th' size, an' a dale coomfortabler. Nay, if we was to get wed, ye'd ha' to coom here--I wouldn't go yonder."

Ted started for a moment, somewhat taken back by the matter-of-fact coolness with which his advances were received; he might as well finish the job now however, he reflected, and as he did not mean the business to proceed beyond the "shouting" stage, it would not hurt him to make any concession that Margaret might please to exact.

"Ah, I could coom here," he remarked heroically; "my little nook isn't sich an ill place for all that; but I'll do it, an' I'll gi' ye my wage reg'lar an' do th' dirty work all round, an'--an' turn teetotal if ye want it."

"Naw," said Miss Heptonstall, "I wouldn't go as far as that; I like a gla.s.s o' beer mysel' at dinner-time--I allus keep a little cask i' th'

b.u.t.tery yon--but you'll ha' to gi' o'er callin' at th' Thornleigh Arms."

"Tisn't like I'd want to be callin' at th' Thornleigh Arms if I'd a coomfortable place like this to set in o' neets, and a missus o' my own to look to."

He had for a moment contemplated qualifying the word "missus" with some such adjective as "bonny," but a glance at Margaret's face nipped this poetical flower in the bud. After a moment she sat upright, gazing at him stolidly.

"I'll think on 't," she said. "Theer's things for it an' theer's things agin it. One thing's agin it--I dunnot fancy your talk out o'

th' newspapers--speakin' ill o' th' Queen an' that--I reckon we'd ha'

words if ye carried on that road when we was mon an' wife."

Wharton rubbed his hands and looked embarra.s.sed; he had hitherto had no hesitation in perjuring himself, but he could not for the life of him swallow his principles.

Margaret marched across the room and took down a framed photograph from a shelf of the old-fashioned dresser. It represented Her Majesty in royal robes.

"This here Canon give me at th' time o' th' Jubilee," she pursued.

"I've vallyed it--well, I couldn't say how mich I've vallyed it an'

_do_ vally it. See here, dunnot hoo look n.o.ble? I couldn't do wi'

onybody i' th' house as didn't respect this same as I do."