"And aw went," said Mary. "More fool yo'." "And 'oo said 'oo'd heard aw'd ta'en up wi' Ben here an' axed me if it wer' true." "An' of course tha'd thi answer to that too," said my mother triumphantly. "Well, yes," admitted Mary. "So that put a spoke i' that wheel," said my father, knocking his pipe head on the fire-grate bar. "Not a bit on it," quoth Mary. "On th' contrary she seemed rayther glad to hear it. But 'oo said he'd noan ha' to ha' me." "Who, ya'r Ben?" "Aye, yo'r Ben." "Who's to stop him?" "Mrs. Walker o' th' Brigg, by yo'r good leave, aunt. She said 'oo'd gie me a month to think on it, an' if aw didn't gi'e mi word to ha' their Ben, she'd just speak a word to th' Government ovver that Rawfolds job as 'ud send Ben here to keep George Mellor company." The knitting fell from my mother's hand, the pipe from my father's They stared at Mary and at me. "So that's what's ailed yo' this three week back. Herb-tea might well be wasted on yo'," at length my mother managed to gasp. "That wer' just th' complaint we were suffering fra, wern't it, Ben?" "An' beyond any physic aw ever heard on," I said. "But tha seems to ha' fun a cure." "But you won't have him," said Faith eagerly. "Oh! the wretched plotter. Say you refused, Mary?" "A varmint not fit to be touched wi' a pair o' tongs," remarked my mother. "But to save Ben here?" asked Mary, maliciously. And my parents looked at each other. It was a dilemma's horns. "Don't look worried, ma'am," said Faith. "Mary's only plaguing us. She has found a way out, it's plain to see. She wouldn't look as she does if she hadn't." "Then till beseems her to be fleyin' her elders out o' their wits an' mi heart goin' pit-a-pat that fast at aw may be took any minnit," said my mother. "Awm sorry, aunt," said Mary, quickly crossing the hearth and putting her arms round my mother's neck and kissing her brow. "Aw shouldn't ha' done it if aw'd thowt; but awm so happy awm hardly misen. Theer, aw'll tell mi tale." "Well, then, yo' may be sure after aw heerd owd Mother Walker's threat aw wer' bothered aboon a bit. Aw wer' noan for weddin' her lad, even if he hadn't turned informer, but what use 'ud Ben here be to me hangin' i' irons off York gibbet. Aw could na see a road aat, look choose which way aw would. Well yesterday aw heerd uncle here say my lord an' lady Dartmouth wer' at Woodsome." My father gave a corroboratory nod. "So aw thowt it ovver all neet, an' to make a long story short awn been to Woodsome this very day." "An' seen my lord?" cried my father.