The expense! Poor Mrs. Furze had made her proposal on the spur of the moment. She, in her ignorance, had not thought an altar-cloth a very costly affair, and now she remembered that she had no friends who were not Dissenters. Moreover, to be on the committee was the object of her ambition, and it was clear that not only had nobody thought of putting her on it, but that she was to pay and take its directions. "I believe," continued Mrs. Colston, "that the altar-cloth which we had provisionally adopted can be had in London for 20 pounds." A ring at the front bell during this interesting conversation had not been noticed. The charwoman, still busy with broom and pail outside, knocked at the door with a knock which might have been given with the broom-handle and announced another visitor. "Mrs. Bellamy, mum." Catharine leaped up, rushed to meet her friend, caught her round the neck, and kissed her eagerly. "Well, Miss Catharine, glad to see you looking so well; still kept the colour of Chapel Farm. This is the first time I've seen you in your new house, Mrs. Furze. I had to come over to Eastthorpe along with Bellamy, and I said I _must_ go and see my Catharine, though--and her mother--though they _do_ live in the Terrace, but I couldn't get Bellamy to come--no, he said the Terrace warn't for him; he'd go and smoke a pipe and have something to drink at your old shop, or rather your new shop, but it's in the old place in the High Street--leastways if you keep any baccy and whiskey there now--and he'd call for me with the gig, and I said as I knew my Catharine--her mother--would give me a cup of tea; and, Miss Catharine, you remember that big white hog as you used to look at always when you went out into the meadow?--well, he's killed, and I know Mr. Furze likes a bit of good, honest, country pork--none of your nasty town-fed stuff--you never know what hogs eat in towns--so Bellamy has a leg about fourteen pounds in the gig, but I thought I'd bring you about two or three pounds of the sausages myself in my basket here," and Mrs. Bellamy pointed to a basket she had on her arm. She paused and became aware that there was a stranger sitting near the fireplace. "But you've got a visitor here; p'r'aps I shall be in the way." "In the way!" said Catharine. "Never, never; give me your basket and your bonnet; or stay, Mrs. Bellamy, I will go upstairs with you, and you shall take off your things." And so, before Mrs. Furze had spoken a syllable, Catharine and Mrs. Bellamy marched out of the room. "Who is that--that person?" said Mrs. Colston. "I fancy I have seen her before. She seems on intimate terms with your daughter." "She is a farmer's wife, of humble origin, at whose house my daughter--lodged--for the benefit of her health."