"Her cheeks wur warmish, I allow; but I wouldn't exactly call 'em painted," observed the Dumpy Philosopher. "You'm mixing it up wi' doorpost paint. Ask your missus if her cheeks warn't plastered wi' cosmetics," said the Yellow Leaf crossly. "I'd rather not," retorted the Dumpy Philosopher. "There be two ways of looking at pretty nigh everything, a gude way and a bad way," urged the Gentle Shepherd. "There be ladies who take a kindly interest in young men, and try to help 'em along a bit. Us knows the Brocks ain't got much money, vor they ha' took the poorest farm in the whole parish. Maybe this lady is helping young Sidney a bit, and her come along to see how he wur doing." The others listened doubtfully, then turned to hear the oracle's opinion. "I ha' heard tell o' such ladies, but I ain't seen one of 'em; and I wants to see a thing avore I believes--ay, I wants to see it two or dree times," said the Yellow Leaf. Then he asked, "How old do you say her wur?" The Dumpy Philosopher fancied the region of twenty; the Gentle Shepherd thought the neighbourhood of forty; while Squinting Jack suggested second childhood. "You can tell an old lady when you sees one," replied the Yellow Leaf, "and you can tell a young maid when you sees one; but when you can't tell whether a woman be old or young, then you'm looking at something what ain't respectable. 'Tis old folk what be charitable, and she warn't old; and when young ladies be charitable to young men, their charity ain't far away from home, I reckon. They Brocks ha' no woman to mind vor 'em; 'tis because they don't dare to; 'tis because this lady wouldn't like it, and they can't tell when she may be coming. She'm a jealous lady vor certain, and she won't have no woman to Black Anchor 'cept it be herself. And she couldn't come to the farm if they had another woman, vor her wouldn't have the face to do it." This was one of the longest, and quite the wisest, of all the opinions stated by the Yellow Leaf. Although it could hardly add to his reputation, it destroyed entirely the credit of the Brocks. "The old man don't hardly ever come into the village, 'cept it be to church, and he don't pass the time o' day to no one," said the Dumpy Philosopher. "Now I come to think of it, young Sidney has a funny, uneducated sort o' way of answering," added Squinting Jack. "They'm mysteries," concluded the Yellow Leaf, "and I hopes to live to see 'em all exposed to the vull light o' day." Robert passed this scandal to Bessie, and she hurried it across to Kezia, who carried it while still fresh into the parlour, and presented it to both the ladies. Miss Yard expressed no interest, but Mrs. Drake was painfully distressed. She was ageing rapidly, and beginning to lose her memory too; she had forgotten what a very favourable impression the boy had made upon her. "Are you quite sure she did go to Black Anchor?" Mrs. Drake inquired.