Alfred let this soak in, as he rubbed the shining tankard. Then he spoke decisively. “I want un to ask questions. Sooner the better. Our gettin’ wed depends, seemin’ly, upon your Uncle Ben.” The significance of his tone was not lost upon the maid. Her straight brows puckered slightly as she asked: “But—why? You said that las’ night, you did.” Alfred laid down the tankard and held aloft a handsome silver inkstand. “It is here, Prue.” Then he read aloud an inscription. “‘Presented to Benoni Fishpingle, after fifty years’ service, by his affectionate friends, Sir Geoffrey and Lady Pomfret.’ _Affectionate!_ Ah-h-h-h! They do think the world o’ Benoni Fishpingle, they do. Now, Prue, you coax your Uncle Ben, and then he’ll downscramble Squire. Tell un that we be a fine up-standin’ couple, a credit to Nether Applewhite.” “That don’t need tellin’, Alfie.” Alfred put down the inkstand and approached the maid, smiling at her. He wagged his head knowingly. “They got on to it at dinner las’ night. Yas, they did.” He chuckled and took her hand in his. “Got on to—what?” “Eugannicks.” He spoke so solemnly that Prudence was vastly impressed. “Eugannicks,” she repeated, “what’s that?” Alfred hesitated. “Eugannicks be—eugannicks.” “You’re a oner at explainin’ things to a pore young maid, you be.” Alfred stiffened, but he pressed her hand softly. “It’s like this, Prue. I can’t explain eugannicks to a young maid, rich or pore—see?” “No, I don’t. S’pose,” she dimpled with mischief, “s’pose you try.” Alfred’s face brightened. Inspiration illumined it. “You ask your Uncle Ben. Never so happy he be as when enlightenin’ ignorance.” She withdrew her hand. “Ignorance? Thank you. I will ask un.” Alfred sighed with relief. “Do. All the same, if you think red bain’t so becomin’ early in the marning, do ’ee put off askin’ un till after tea.” Prudence betrayed a livelier interest. “Mercy! Why should eugannicks make me blush?” Alfred chuckled again. “You ask your Uncle Ben.” Prudence nodded, satisfied that interrogation could not be pushed further. Her eyes were caught by the gleaming tankard. “That be a be—utiful mug, Alfie.” “Don’t ’ee touch it. I’ll tell ’ee why I brought un in here, and take payment after supper. The story be a kind o’ parryble.” Prudence laughed. “What big, brave words!” Alfred pointed at the tankard. Unconsciously, he began to understudy the tone and manner of the village parson. We shall meet this gentleman presently. For the moment it is enough to say that he was a man of character and influence. He had taught Alfred in Sunday school and prepared him for Confirmation. “The parryble o’ that there tankard’ll learn ’ee——” “Teach me, Alfie——”