“E-es,” said Jacob, “’tis true; ’tis the very thing I be a-doin’. You said if I didn’t pay up you’d make me--well, how be you a-goin’ for to make me?” “Oh, I suppose I’ll have to send you a summons,” cried she, with gathering anger. “’Tis my duty and I must do it.” Jacob’s face changed. The colour mounted in his brown cheeks, and when he spoke his voice was unsteady with surprise and wrath. “You don’t mean that,” he said quickly. “You’d never do it.” “I’ll have to do it,” said Bethia, “if you force me to proceed to extremes. Oh, Mr. Fowler,” she added, almost passionately, “can’t you be sensible; can’t you make an end of it once and for all? If I’d been a man instead of a girl you wouldn’t persecute me like this. You’d think it quite natural for me to want to take my father’s place, wouldn’t you? What difference does it make? I can keep the accounts, and make the applications, just as well as any man. Why should you try to bully me?” “Now look ’ee here, my maid,” said Jacob, “if you come to that, ’tis you what be a-tryin’ for to bully I. I’ve a-set my face again this ’ere notion. No respectable young ’ooman did ought to go a-trapesin’ fro’ one house to t’other, a puttin’ herself for’ard and a-coaxin’ folks out o’ their money, whether it be for the Government or whether it bain’t. ’Tis a question between us two which can hold out longest. Now if you was to give in to I----” “Well,” said Bethia, bending forward with unconscious eagerness, “what would happen if I were to give in to you?” Jacob took out his pipe and stared at her, and then he got up and paced about the little flagged path. “What would happen?” she repeated sharply. “What would you advise me to do?” “Oh, I don’t know,” returned Jacob confusedly. “I haven’t had time for to think o’ that.” It was now Bethia’s turn to spring to her feet. “I think you are hard, and obstinate, and cruel! Yes, cruel, to try and put upon my poor mother and me! But I’ll have an end of this shilly-shally work; you shall be forced to pay, sir.” She hastened down the path. Jacob, after delaying a moment to lay his pipe carefully in a corner of the seat, strode after her and opened the garden gate, holding it for a moment so that she could not pass through. Bethia glanced at him. He did not look angry, but resolute; his jaw was firmly set and his eyes steady. It struck her forcibly that he had a good face--honest, open, manly--and she realised with a little pang that it was probably turned towards her for the last time in friendship. “I’ll give you a month,” she said waveringly. “Ye mid as well say a year,” returned Jacob. “’Twill be all the same.” Thereupon he opened the gate and she went away. The allotted time of grace passed very slowly, and though Bethia continued to post a little demand-note every week, no notice was taken either of her appeal or of herself.