"It behoves us--seein' as how a tempory cloud has descended between these two establishments--it behoves us, I say, to watch out for its silver lining in one form or another. Which talking of silver reminds me of electro, and I'll ask you, Palmerston, if that's the way to leave a mustard-pot and call yourself an indoor male?" Their estrangement had endured some three months before the rivals came again into public collision. The beginning of it happened through a very excusable misunderstanding. Is Christmas Day to be reckoned as an ordinary day of the week, or as a Sunday, or as a _dies non?_ The reader must decide. Christmas Day that year fell on a Friday--one of the three week-days tacitly allotted to Cai, who may therefore be forgiven that he chose to reckon it as coming within the ordinary routine. He did so, and at about three o'clock in the afternoon (which was bright and sunny) he reached the small gate of Rilla, to be aware of 'Bias striding up the pathway ahead of him. He gave chase in no small choler. "Look here," he protested, panting; "haven't you made some mistake? This is Friday." "Christmas Day," answered 'Bias, wheeling about. "I can't help that. 'Tis Friday." "An' next year 'twill be Saturday," retorted 'Bias with a sour grin; "it that'll content you, when it comes. None of us can't help it. Th' almanack says 'tis Christmas Day, and ord'nary days o' the week don't count. Besides, 'tis quarter-day, and I've brought my rent." "I've brought mine, too," replied Cai. "Well, we'll leave it to Mrs Bosenna to settle." They walked up to the house in silence. Dinah, who answered the bell, appeared to be somewhat upset at sight of the two on the doorstep together. (Yet we know that Dinah never opened the front door without a precautionary survey.) She admitted them to the front parlour, and opining that her mistress was somewhere's about the premises, departed in search of her. 'Bias took up a position with his back to the fire and his legs a-straddle. Cai stuck his hands in his pockets and stared gloomily out of window. For some three minutes neither spoke, then Cai, of a sudden, gave a start. "There's that Middlecoat!" he exclaimed. "Hey?" 'Bias hurried to the window, but the young farmer had already passed out of sight. "Look here," suggested Cai, "it's just an well we turned up, one or both. That man's a perfect bully, so she tells me." "She've told me the same, more than once." "Always pickin' some excuse for a quarrel. It ain't right for a woman to live alongside such a neighbour unprotected." "So I've told her." "Well, he's in the devil of a rage just now,--to judge by the look of him, an' the way he was smackin' his leg with an ash-plant as he went by." "Was he now?" 'Bias considered for a moment. "You may depend he took advantage, not expectin' either of us to turn up to-day. . . . I shouldn't wonder if the maid properly scared him with news we were here."