"You little capitalist! How did you get a hundred pounds?" "Father has put a few pounds in the bank at St. Merryn every year since I was born for me, and I have put there all the money your sister paid me. Father said it was to furnish my home when I got married, but I would rather spend it on my voice." "I should think so. Well, Beauty, you are to come and see Elizabeth off Wednesday; then I shall have something sweet and wonderful to say to you." "Will Elizabeth send for me? That would make it easy." "I do not think Elizabeth will send for you. I have been hoping for that. She has not named you at all. For my sake, come to the Court on Wednesday." "It is a long way to walk, but for your sake I will come." Then they parted, and she hastened back and reached home just as John and Joan were beginning to be uneasy at her delay. The sight of her happy face, the charming little fuss she made about her dripping waterproof and her wet shoes, the perfectly winning way in which she took possession of her father's knee and from it warmed her bare rosy feet at the blaze scattered all shadows. She took their fears and nascent anger by storm; she exhibited her many-coloured bits of cloth, and showed John the pictures in the story paper, and coaxingly begged her mother for a cup of tea, because she was cold and hungry. And then, as Joan made the tea and the toast, Denas related all that Priscilla had told her. And Joan wondered and exclaimed, and John listened with a pleased interest, though he thought it right to say a word about speaking ill of people, and was snubbed by Joan for doing so. "Mrs. Burrell is putting on grand airs, it seems, so then it will go that people of course will speak ill of her," said Joan. "Aw, my dear," answered John, "few are better spoken of than they deserve." "I do think Denas ought to call on the bride," said Joan. "It would only be friendly, and many will make a talk about it if she does not go." "She must find out, first, if the young man be there." "No," said Denas warmly, "I will not find out. If you cannot trust your little maid, father, then do not let her go at all. If people could hear you talk they would say, 'What a bad girl John Penelles has! He dare not let her go to see her friend if there be a young man in the house.' 'Tis a shame, isn't it, mother?" "I think it be, Denas. Father isn't so cruel suspicious as that, my dear. Are you, father?" And what could John answer? Though sorely against his feeling and his judgment, he was induced to agree that Denas ought perhaps to call once on the bride. There were so many plausible arguments in favour of such a visit; there was nothing but shadowy doubts and fears against it. "Go to-morrow, then," said John, a little impatiently; "and let me be done with the fret of it." "The day after-to-morrow, or Wednesday, father. To-morrow it will be still raining, no doubt, and I have something to alter in my best dress. I want to look as fine as I can, father."