“The next day, and the next day, and the next passed, and no word from Mary, and my mistress was ill. Once I ran as far as the turn to the lane, and looked down at the forge. The fire was burning low, and there was no sound of the hammer on the anvil. At last, Mrs. Considine herself called; she was very full of prate: she had the dirty red book, as usual, half sticking out of her black bag: she said, that indeed Mary had demeaned herself by taking up with nothing but a smith, a great friend of her brother’s, and one she would not deny who had done him more than one good turn, and would be right well to do in the world if he had a little capital to push him on, which neither her nor her husband would give to a man of the name of Roche. Roche, indeed! Roches were as plentiful as black-berries, and as common, where she came from. Set her Mary before the priest with a Roche? No, no; Mr. Henry Highley was the man for their money, so nice a gentleman; for every sovereign her husband laid down as Mary’s fortune, he would lay down another, or could two! And such _jewelery_ as he had; rings for every finger, and fine watches, one set with precious stones—which had belonged to his grandmother—a Talbot itself! There was all about the family printed in the peerage, and sure it wouldn’t be _there_ if it wasn’t true—but indeed she couldn’t tell what was come over Mary: she had no pride, no spirit in her; her husband would weigh the watches in his hand, and look at the rings all day, and ask what they were worth over and over again, and take them to bed with him, if he was let, he had such delight in them. But they might be so much _pinchback_, for any thing Mary cared; they would have the wedding at once, and when it was over, she’d know better. Mr. Highley was so fond of her, he wouldn’t hear of delay, not even until her brother came home! She let on that Mary, when married, would be too grand company for the likes of me, but that _she_ would not be proud. I might look in sometimes, she’d be glad to see my mistress when they got into a new lodging, which Mr. Highley said they must after the wedding—for _his_ sake, dear, sweet, well-born, well-bred young gentleman! “Like her impudence, it was: _My mistress itself!_ MY MISTRESS! visit with her: och hone! What would the cards on the fine china dish say to it, if they could but speak? But, aunt dear, what do you think I did, when she, and her bag, and her book were cleared out of the house? I told my mistress every word she had said. Now it was a mercy that she was quite herself that morning, and sure enough she has a head almost as clear for business as our dear QUEEN’S! God bless it for ever, for a right, royal, noble head!—the Queen’s, I mean—She did not ponder long, but laying her spectacles in her Bible, for a mark, she set it besides the china dish. “‘Ellen,’ she said, ‘have you ever seen the policeman, who spoke to you, since that night?’ “And I said I had: that very morning he was on our beat.