Simon, however, saw nothing amiss; it was apparent that he looked upon his visit solely and wholly as an “outing,” and had no ulterior views as to his aunt’s testamentary dispositions. If he had ever heard of her savings he had evidently forgotten about them; he had left home young, and, except for the wonderful epistolary effort which he sent to his mother each Christmas, corresponded little with his family. He admired Rosy very much, and could not understand why she was so short in her speech and stand-off in her manner. It was perhaps her repellent tone and evident moodiness which caused Mrs. Melmouth to lay so much stress on Simon’s various good qualities. During the course of the evening young Fry remarked with a yawn and a stretch that he intended to have a good sleep on the morrow. “Jist about,” he added emphatically. “Ah! ’twill be summat to hear clock strikin’ and to turn over warm an’ snug thinkin’ I needn’t get up to drive up the cows. To-morrow’s Saturday, too--if I were yonder I’d ha’ had to clean out fifteen pigstyes afore breakfast.” “Think of that!” said Mrs. Melmouth. “’Tater-settin’s different, bain’t it? Ye wouldn’t mind so much gettin’ up a bit early to set ’taters--would ye, Simon?” Simon’s jaw dropped, and he looked ruefully at his relative. “I thought I wer’ goin’ to have a real hollerday for once,” he said hesitatingly. “There, if you do want me to do any little job for ye in a small way I don’t mind doin’ of it. But settin’ ’taters! You’ve a goodish bit o’ ground, an’ there is but the two days--I did look to have my sleep out to-morrow,” he concluded desperately. “I did count on ye,” persisted Mrs. Melmouth mildly. “Ah! so did I. Said I to myself, ‘I’ll save up them ’taters ’gainst the time my nevvy do come’--I says. ‘He be a good-natured young man,’ I says, ‘and I know he will do what I do ax him.’ ’Tis beautiful weather for early risin’, Simon, my dear, and you’ll feel the air so nice and fresh while you’re workin’. I’ll have a dew-bit ready for ye. Ye won’t disapp’int me, I’m sure.” “Oh! I’ll not disapp’int ye,” returned Simon dolefully. “I can’t work on Sunday, of course,” he added, brightening up a little. “That’s summat, an’ if I work real hard to-morrow I mid have a chance o’ gettin’ off a bit on Monday. Where be the ’taters, aunt? If we was to cut up some o’ the sets to-night, we’d get on faster to-morrow.” “Ah, to be sure,” agreed his aunt with alacrity. “I’ll fetch a basket of ’em in a minute, an’ Rosy there can help ye. She’ll be busy to-morrow cleanin’ up indoor; but she’ll give you a hand to-night.” But Rosy now felt the time had come for her to assert herself. She glanced at the drawerful of stockings which lay on the chair beside her, and then raised her eyes to her aunt’s face. “I know nothin’ about cuttin’ up sets,” said she, “an’ I don’t fancy sich work. I’ve got all this darnin’ to do. That’s enough for anybody, I think.”