Hazel had been looking at two of the only books at Undern-'The Horse' and 'The Dog,' illustrated. Vessons had views about books. He considered them useful in their place. 'There's nought like a book,' he would say, 'one of these 'ere big fat novels or a book of sermons, to get a nice red gledy fire. A book at the front and a bit of slack behind, and there you are!' There the books were, too. So Hazel looked at the 'Book of the Horse' until she knew all the pictures by heart. She had fallen asleep over it, and she jumped up in panic when Sally spoke. 'Who be you?' she asked in a frightened voice as they eyed her. 'I'm Sally Haggard and these be my children.' She surveyed them proudly. 'D'you notice that they favour anyone?' Hazel looked at them timidly. 'They favour you,' she said. 'Not Mr. Reddin?' 'Mr. Reddin?' 'Ah! They'd ought to. They'm his'n.' 'His'n?' 'Yes, parrot.' 'Be you the 'ooman as Martha said Jack lived along of?' 'He did live along of me.' 'Why, then, you'd ought to be Mrs. Reddin, and wear this gownd, and live at Undern,' said Hazel. 'Eh?' Sally was astonished. 'And he said there wunna any other but me.' Sally laughed. 'You believed that lie? You little softie!' Hazel looked at the children. 'Be they _all_ his'n?' she said. 'Every man-jack of 'em, and not so much as a thank you for me!' The children were ranged near their mother--on high chairs. They gaped at Hazel, sullen and critical. An irrepressible question broke from Hazel. 'What for did you have 'em?' Sally stared. 'What for?' she repeated. 'Surely to goodness, girl, you're not as innicent-like as that?' 'I ain't ever going to have any,' Hazel went on with great firmness, as she eyed the children. 'God above!' muttered Sally. 'He's fooled her worse'n me!' 'Come and look at the baby, my dear,' she said in a voice astonishingly soft. She looked at Hazel keenly. 'Dunna you know?' she asked. 'What?' 'As you're going to have a baby?' Hazel sprang up, all denial. But Sally, having told the children to play, spoke for a long time in a low tone, and finally convinced a white, sick, trembling Hazel of the fact. Not being sensitive herself, she did not realize the ghastly terror caused by her lurid details of the coming event. Hazel looked so ill that Sally tried to administer consolation. 'Maybe it'll be a boy, and you'll be fine and pleased to see 'un growing a fine tall man like Reddin.' Hazel burst into tears, so that the children stopped their play to watch and laugh. 'But I dunna want it to grow up like Jack,' she said. 'I want it to grow up like Ed'ard, and none else!' 'Well! You _are_ a queer girl. If you like him as you call Ed'ard what for did you take up with Jack?' 'I dunno.' 'Well, the best you can do,' said Sally, 'is to go back to your Edward, lithermonsload and all. And if he wunna take you--'