Into this scene stepped a young man in the Burrell Court livery. He gave Denas a letter, but refused the offer of a cup of tea, because "the storm was hurrying landward, and he would be busy all to catch the cliff-top before it caught him." Joan took no notice of the interruption, and Denas felt her trouble over such a slight affair as a turned loaf to be almost a personal offence. In a short time she said: "Mother, your tea is waiting; and I have a letter from Mrs. Burrell, if you care anything about it." "Aw, my girl, I care little for Mrs. Burrell's letters to-night. She be well and happy, no doubt; and my old dear is in the wind's teeth and pulling hard against a frosty death." "Father knows the sky and the sea, and I think it is cruel hard of him to take such risks." "And where will the fishers be who do take no risks? Fish be plenty just before a storm, and the London market-boat waiting for the take; and why wouldn't the men do their duty, danger or no danger?" "I would rather die than be a fisher's wife." "Aw, my girl, the heart for one isn't in you." "I never saw you so nervous before, mother." "Nervous! Nervous! No, my dear, it be downright fear. I never knew what fear was before. I've gone down-daunted--that be the trouble, Denas. I've had such dreams lately--such creepy-like, ghastly old dreams of wandering in wayless ways covered with water; of seeing the hearth-place full of cold ashes and the lights put out; and of carrying the 'Grief Child' in my breast, a puny, wailing bit of a baby that I could not be rid of, nor yet get away from--sights and sounds after me night and day that do give me a turn to think of; and what they do mean I haven't mind-light for to see. God help us! But I do fear they be signs of trouble. And who goes into the way of trouble but your father? May God save him from it!" "Trouble is no new thing, mother." "That be the truth. Trouble be old as the floods of Dava." "And it does seem to me religious people, who are always talking about trusting God, are a poor, unhappy kind. If you do believe, mother, that God is the good Father you say He is--if you do think He has led millions to His own heavenly city--I wonder at you always fearing that He is going to forget you and let you lose your way and get into all kinds of danger and sorrow." "There, then! You be right for once, my dear. Your father, he do serve the Lord with gladness, but a wife's heart is nothing but a nest of fear. And it be true that I do not think so much of serving the Lord as of having the Lord serve me; and when it is me and always me, and your heart be top-full of your dismal old self, how can you serve God with gladness? You be right to give me a set-down, Denas. Come, now, what is Mrs. Burrell's letter about? I be pleased and ready to hear it now, my dear." "This is what she says, mother: