Jellico's system, to give Dovey's explanation in brief, was this: He brought over a huge pack of goods every Tuesday afternoon in a pony-gig from his shop at Evesham. He put up the pony, and carried the pack on his round, tempting the women right and left to buy. Husbands away at work, and children at school, the field was open. _He asked for no ready money down._ The purchases were entered in a book, to be paid off by weekly instalments. The payments had to be kept up; Jellico saw to that. However short the household had to run of the weekly necessaries, Jellico's money had to be ready for him. It was an awful tax, just as Dovey described it, and drifted into at first by the women without thought of ill. The debt in itself was bad enough; but the fear lest it should come to their husbands' ears was almost worse. As Dovey described all this in his homely, but rather flowery language, it put me in mind of those pleasure-seekers that sail too far over a sunny sea in thoughtlessness, and suspect no danger till their vessel is right upon the breakers. "There haven't been no blow-ups yet to speak of," said the blacksmith. "But they be coming. I could just put my finger upon half-a-dozen women at this blessed minute what's wearing theirselves to shadders with the trouble. They come here to Figg's in the dusk o' evening wi' things hid under their aprons. The longer Jellico lets it go on, the worse it gets, for they _will_ be tempted, the she-creatures, buying made flowers for their best bonnets to-day, and ribbuns for their Sunday caps to-morrow. If Jellico lets 'em, that is. He knows pretty sure where he may trust and where he mayn't. 'Tain't he as will let his pocket suffer in the long run. He knows another thing--that the further he staves off any big noise the profitabler it'll be for him. Once let that come, and Master Jellico might get hunted out o' the Cut, and his pack and its finery kicked to shreds." "But why are the women such simpletons, Dovey?" asked Frank Stirling. "You might as well ask why folks eats and drinks, sir," retorted Dovey, his begrimed eyes lighted with the flame. "A love o' their faces is just born with the women, and it goes with 'em to the grave. Set a parcel o' finery before 'em and the best'll find their eyes a-longing, and their mouths a-watering. It's said Eve used to do up her hair looking into a clear pool." "Putting it in that light, Dovey, I wonder all the women here don't go in for Mr. Jellico's temptations." "Some on 'em has better sense; and some has husbands what's up to the thing, and keeps the reins tight in their own hands," complacently answered the unconscious Dovey. "Up to the thing!" repeated Stirling; "I should think all the men are up to it, if Jellico is here so constantly."