The girl's voice trembled, but she threw back her slender neck with a gesture that became her. The door, which had been closed, stealthily opened. Hubert Mason's face appeared in the doorway. It was gazing eagerly--admiringly--at Miss Fountain. Mrs. Mason did not see him. Nor was she daunted by Laura's anger. "It's aw yan," she said stubbornly. "Thoo ha' made a covenant wi' the Amorite an the Amalekite. They ha' called tha, an thoo art eatin o' their sacrifices!" There was an uneasy laugh from the door, and Laura, turning her astonished eyes in that direction, perceived Hubert standing in the doorway, and behind him another head thrust eagerly forward--the head of a young woman in a much betrimmed Sunday hat. "I say, mother, let her be, wil tha?" said a hearty voice; and, pushing Hubert aside, the owner of the hat entered the room. She went up to Laura, and gave her a loud kiss. "I'm Polly--Polly Mason. An I know who you are weel enough. Doan't you pay ony attention to mother. That's her way. Hubert an I take it very kind of you to come and see us." "Mother's rats on Amorites!" said Hubert, grinning. "Rats?--Amorites?"--said Laura, looking piteously at Polly, whose hand she held. Polly laughed, a bouncing, good-humoured laugh. She herself was a bouncing, good-humoured person, the apparent antithesis of her mother with her lively eyes, her frizzled hair, her high cheek-bones touched with a bright pink. "Yo'll have to get oop early to understan' them two," she declared. "Mother's allus talkin out o' t' Bible, an Hubert picks up a lot o' low words out o' Whinthrupp streets--an there 'tis. But now look here--yo'll stay an tak' a bit o' dinner with us?" "I don't want to be in your way," said Laura formally. Really, she had some difficulty to control the quiver of her lips, though it would have been difficult to say whether laughter or tears came nearest. At this Polly broke out in voluble protestations, investigating her cousin's dress all the time, fingering her little watch-chain, and even taking up a corner of the pretty cloth jacket that she might examine the quality of it. Laura, however, looked at Mrs. Mason. "If Cousin Elizabeth wishes me to stay," she said proudly. Polly burst into another loud laugh. "Yo see, it goes agen mother to be shakin hands wi' yan that's livin wi' Papists--and Misther Helbeck by the bargain. So wheniver mother talks aboot Amorites or Jesubites, or any o' thattens, she nobbut means Papist--Romanists as our minister coes 'em. He's every bit as bad as her. He would as lief shake hands wi' Mr. Helbeck as wi' the owd 'un!" "I'll uphowd ye--Mr. Bayley hasn't preached a sermon this ten year wi'oot chivvyin Papists!" said Hubert from the door. "An yo'll not find yan o' them in his parish if yo were to hunt it wi' a lantern for a week o' Sundays. When I was a lad I thowt Romanists were a soart o' varmin. I awmost looked to see 'em nailed to t' barndoor, same as stöats!"