"Well, and why not?" I said, getting nettled, for Mary had told me some home truths that had been none too pleasant in the hearing and digestion. "And why not?" I repeated. "Faith's a sweet lass, and a good one an' true. She's over pale an' thin mebbe, for everyone's fancy." "Oh! beauty's in the eye of the beholder," put in Mary, tossing her head. "But she'd cure o' that, wi' plenty o' good milk an' fresh air such as we han at Holme. An' aw think she leans a bit to me. Don't yo' think so yoursen, Mary. "Dunnot ask me. My head doesn't run on such trash. What's ta talking to me for? Aw'm noan Faith. Yo'd soon have an answer, an' one 'at 'ud tak' th' conceit out on thee if owt could. Ask hersen." "Well! I happen will," I said. "Aw've a good mind." "It's a pity to spoil a good mind then. I'd waste no time about it, chance some'dy snaps her up. An' while th' art abaht it, yo might ask her to come an' nurse thee, so's 'oo'll know what's afore her." And Mary bounced out of the room in a tantrum. The frame of mind in which she left me was certainly not one that Dr. Dean could have desired for a feverish patient. It. was clear to me that my own position was anything but an enviable one. Large rewards had been offered, I knew, for such information as would lead to the conviction of those concerned in the attack on Rawfolds, and machine breaking had been made a capital offence. My own participation in that affair was known to scores, and suspected by hundreds more. An incident that befel shortly afterwards aggravated my alarm. My father was still away. A letter had come from him, written in an obviously bad temper, complaining of the awful state of trade and driving my mother to distraction by telling of the trial and punishment of the Nottingham Luddites. However, I had so far proceeded to convalescence as to leave my bed, and I was looking forwards to being out and about in a few days, and I was turning over in my mind the feasibility of leaving home for a few months till things blew over a bit. I did not feel safe at home and that's the fact, and I was on tenterhooks to put a hundred miles and more between me and Justice Radcliffe, who was scouring the district for Luds. I was meditating on these matters and wondering why George Mellor never came near me even to ask after my recovery, when I heard the dog give tongue in the yard and the sound of horses' hoofs. I managed to support myself to the stairhead. I heard a clatter at the door, which was opened by Martha. "Does William Bamforth live here?" asked a voice, and there was the pawing of a horse's hoof, the jingling of a bit-chain, the sound of one swinging himself heavily to the ground, and the clinking of spurs. "Does ta' mean Bill o' Ben's?" queried Martha. "I mean William Bamforth." "Well yo'see, there's a seet o' Bamforths i' Holme, an' four on 'em's Bills. It'll be Bill o' Luke's yo'r wantin', or happen Bill o' Nan's Back Side."