ANN. 'Cept for the drink, 'e've been a good son to 'is old mother when the others 'ud 'a' left 'er to rot i' the ditch, an' 'e was the on'y one as 'ud raise a finger again his father when the owd man, God rest him, was on to 'er like a madman. Drunk or sober 'e always was on 'is mother's side. TOM. 'Twas a fearful 'ouse that. ANN. 'Twas wonderful that for all they did to 'er, that wild old man wi' 'is wild young sons, she outlived 'em all, but never a one could she save from the curse that was on them, an', sober, they was the likeliest men 'n Troutbeck.... TOM. 'Tis when the rain comes and t' clouds come low an' black on the fells and the cold damp eats into a man's bones that the fearful thoughts come to 'im that must be drowned or 'im go mad--an' only the foreigners like me or them as 'as foreign blood new in 'em can 'old out again it; 'tis the curse o' livin' too long between two lines o' 'ills. ANN. An' what that owd woman could never do, d'ye think our Mary'll do it? 'Im a Troutbeck man an' she a Troutbeck girl? TOM. She've 'eld to 'er bargain an' brought 'im to it. ANN. There's things that a maid can do that a wife cannot an' that's truth, an' shame it is to the men. [_Comes a knock at the door._] 'Tisn't time for t' weddin' folk. [_Tom goes to the window._] TOM. Gorm. 'Tis Mrs. Airey. ANN. T' owd woman. She that 'as not been further than 'er garden-gate these ten years? [_She goes to the door, opens it to admit Mrs. Airey, an old gaunt woman just beginning to be bent with age._] MRS. A. Good day to you, Tom Davis. TOM. Good day to you, Mrs. Airey. MRS. A. Good day to you, Ann Davis. ANN. Good day to you, Mrs. Airey. Will ye sit down? [_She dusts a chair and Mrs. Airey sits by the fireside. She sits silent for a long while. Tom and Ann look uneasily at her and at each other._] MRS. A. So 'tis all ready for Bill's wedding. TOM. Ay. 'Tis a fine day, an' the folks bid, and the sharry-bang got for to drive to Coniston, all the party of us. Will ye be coming, Mrs. Airey? MRS. A. I'll not. [_Mrs. Airey sits silent again for long._] Is Mary in the 'ouse? ANN. She be upstairs puttin' on 'er weddin' dress. MRS. A. 'Tis the sad day of 'er life.... They're a rotten lot an' who should know et better than me? Bill's the best of 'em, but Bill's rotten.... Six months is not enough, nor six years nor sixty, not while 'er stays in Troutbeck rememberin' all that 'as been an' all the trouble that was in the 'ouse along o' it, and so I've come for to say it. ANN. She growed up lovin' Bill, and 'tis a set thing. She've waited long years. 'Tis done now, an' what they make for theirselves they make, an' 'tis not for us to go speirin' for the trouble they may make for theirselves, but only to pray that it may pass them by.... MRS. A. But 'tis certain.... Six months is not enough, nor six years, nor sixty-- ANN. And are ye come for to tell Mary this...? MRS. A. This and much more....