“Well, ’tis queer, I d’ ’low,” agreed her neighbour, “but when a body sees sich things for theirsel’s as do happen along o’ you, they can’t but believe their own eyes. Ye mind that there bar-hive what Mr. Bridle got last month?” “E-es,” returned Ann feebly, “I mind it well. I never see sich a handsome contrivance nor so clever. Mr. Bridle showed it to I.” “E-es, I d’ ’low he did,” agreed the other, with a certain triumph. “I d’ ’low ye was a-lookin’ at it a long time.” “I was,” confessed Ann, with a sinking heart. Mrs. Clarke nodded portentously. “That’s it,” she said. “The bees be all dead, Mrs. Kerley. Bridle, he did say to I yesterday, ‘I couldn’t think,’ says he, ‘whatever took the bees. I had but just moved them out of the wold skip and they did seem to take to the bar-hive so nice,’ he says, ‘an’ now they be all a-dyin’ off so quick as they can. I couldn’t think,’ he says, ‘what could be the reason, but I do know now. I do know it was a great mistake to ha’ brought Ann Kerley up to look at ’em.’” “Oh dear, oh dear,” cried the last-named poor old woman, wringing her hands, “do he really think I did hurt ’em?” “He do, indeed,” said Mrs. Clarke firmly. “There, my dear, it do seem a terr’ble thing, but you be turned into a witch seemin’ly, whether it be against your will or whether it bain’t.” Ann stood motionless for a moment, her hands squeezed tightly together, her face haggard and drawn. “I think I’ll go indoor a bit,” she said, after a pause. “I’ll go indoor an’ set me down. I don’t know what to do. Mrs. Clarke----?” “E-es, my dear. There, you needn’t look up at I so earnest--I can hear ’ee quite well wi’out that.” Ann turned away with an impatient groan, and went staggering up her path. The other looked after her remorsefully. “Bide a bit, Mrs. Kerley, do ’ee now. What was ye goin’ to ax I?” “I was but goin’ to ax,” faltered Ann, still with her face averted, “if you’d be so kind as to fetch I a drop o’ water this marnin’ when you do go to get some for yoursel’. There, I don’t some way feel as if I could face folks--an’ there mid be some about. ’Tis gettin’ a bit late now.” “E-es, sure; I could do it easy,” agreed Mrs. Clarke eagerly. “I could do it every marnin’--’tisn’t a bit more trouble to fill two pails nor one. An’ ’t ’ud be better for ee, Ann, my dear, not to go about more nor you can help till this ’ere visitation wears of.” “’T ’ull never wear off,” said Ann gloomily, as she walked unsteadily away.