"Why, there's another o' them half-crowns o' yourn, Bessie," said a consumptive-looking girl in a bedraggled hat and feathers, as Mrs. Costrell handed her coin to the landlord. "Wheriver do yer get 'em?" "If yer don't ask no questions, I won't tell yer no lies," said Bessie, with quick impudence. "Where did you get them hat and feathers?" There was a coarse laugh from the company. The girl in the hat reddened furiously, and she and Bessie--both of them in a quarrelsome state--began to bandy words. Meanwhile the landlord was showing the coin to his assistant at the bar. "Rum, ain't it? I niver seed one o' them pieces in the village afore this winter, an' I've been 'ere twenty-two year come April." A decent-looking labourer, who did not often visit the Spotted Deer, was leaning over the bar and caught the words. "Well, then, I 'ave," he said promptly. "I mind well as when I were a lad, sixteen year ago, my fayther borrered a bit o' money off John Bolderfield, to buy a cow with--an' there was 'arf of it in them 'arf-crowns." Those standing near overheard. Bessie and the girl stopped quarrelling. The landlord, startled, cast a sly eye in Bessie's direction. She came up to the bar. "What's that yer sayin'?" she demanded. The man repeated his remark. "Well, I dessay there was," said Bessie--"I dessay there was. I s'pose there's plenty of 'em. Where do I get 'em?--why, I get 'em at Bedford, of course, when I goes for my money." She looked round defiantly. No one said anything; but everybody instinctively suspected a lie. The sudden silence was striking. "Well, give me my change, will yer?" she said impatiently to the landlord. "I can't stan' here all night." He gave it to her, and she went out showering reckless good-nights, to which there was little response. The door had no sooner closed upon her than every one in the tap-room pressed round the bar in a close gathering of heads and tongues. Bessie ran across the green and began to climb the hill at a rapid pace. Her thin woollen shawl blown back by the wind left her arms and bosom exposed. But the effects of the spirit in her veins prevented any sense of cold, though it was a bitter night. Once or twice, as she toiled up the hill, she gave a loud sudden sob. "Oh, my God!" she said to herself. "My God!" When she was half-way up she met a neighbour. "Have yer seen Isaac?" Bessie asked her, panting. "'Ee's at the Club, arn't 'ee?" said the woman. "Well, they won't be up yet. Jim tolt me as Muster Perris"--Muster Perris was the vicar of Clinton Magna--"'ad got a strange gen'leman stayin' with 'im, and was goin' to take him into the Club to-night to speak to 'em. 'Ee's a bishop, they ses--someun from furrin parts." Bessie threw her good-night and climbed on.