Rosy, who was living at home, and in consequence not tied down to any particular date, arrived a day before the other guest. She was a pretty girl of the dark-haired, clear-skinned type so often to be seen in Dorset; her eyes were brown like her hair, and her complexion matched her name to a nicety. The carrier dropped her and her tin box at the corner of the lane which led to Mrs. Melmouth’s cottage, and she came staggering down to her aunt’s door bent in two beneath the weight of her belongings. Mrs. Melmouth stood on the threshold and watched her. “That’s right,” she remarked, as the girl set down her trunk and straightened herself, breathless and laughing, “I be main glad to see ye. Ye be sich a handy maid, my dear. There, I declare ye’ve just come in nice time to get the tea.” Now Rosy, who was tired and thirsty after her long jolting in the carrier’s van, had half-expected to find tea ready. She felt a little bewildered and slightly annoyed on being sent first to the well and then to the woodshed, and then having to reach down the best china from the top shelf, and, moreover, to dust it, conscious all the time of wearing her best frock with sleeves too tight at the wrist to turn up comfortably. It was a very crestfallen Rosy indeed who finally sat down to partake of that particularly well-earned cup of tea. But Mrs. Melmouth was radiant. “To-morrow,” said she, “I’ll get ye to make that there back room ready for my nevvy.” “Your nephew?” echoed Rosy, somewhat taken aback. It had been well enough surmised by the Tuffin family that Aunt Becky had a tidy sum put by, though they were as ignorant of the precise amount as of the receptacle in which she had stored it. The invitation to Rosy had awakened certain half-formed hopes in the girl’s own breast, as well as in those of her parents, and she looked very blank at the announcement that a rival aspirant was so soon to come upon the scene. “Ah!” said Mrs. Melmouth, stirring her tea vigorously, “my nevvy, Simon Fry. He be comin’ to spend his hollerday here. That room ’ull want a good doin’ out,” she continued placidly, “an’ there’s a lot o’ wold things there as ’ull have to be shifted afore you can get to work. But ye can get up pretty early--it’ll be ready time enough, I dare say. He’ll not be here much afore tea-time.”