“Luck comes to those who desarve it,” said Rose. “I am not surprised at you and your family being prosperous in all you undertake. There’s no knowing, Jan,”’she spoke solemnly,’“you may feel low and discouraged at being, so to speak, kicked over the orchard hedge by Kate, but it may be a blessing in disguise, who can tell? but Providence may have in view someone for you much better suited’_much_ in every way, than Kitty.” “Drat it! there is that fly again.” “Mr. Puddicombe’what a good soul he is!’has been about the place spreading the news.” “What news?” “About Kitty and the schoolmaster.” “Kitty and the schoolmaster?” echoed Pooke. His brows went up, his jaw dropped, and his cheek became mottled. “Haven’t you heard? Why, poor dear Jan, she went helter-skelter away from the orchard where she had trampled on you to fling herself into the arms of Mr. Thingamy-jig. I cannot tell his name’I mean the new schoolmaster.” “How do you know?” “Of course I know. Mr. Puddicombe is brimming with the news. They went like a pair of turtle-doves cooing and billing to Mr. Puddicombe, and he has nearly run his legs down to stumps since. The schoolmaster”’ “But I don’t mean about the schoolmaster.” Pooke spoke with a tremble in his voice. “Oh! about that affair, that comical affair in the orchard? Half the village, I reckon, was out behind the hedges looking and listening. There was Betsy Baker, and there was Jenny Jones, and that sprig of a chap, Tommy Croft’I won’t be sure they heard, but I fancy so’anyhow, everyone has been talking of it, and pitying you that you were made ridiculous; and then to go off, right on end, and accept a schoolmaster.” In a tone of infinite contempt, Rose added, “A schoolmaster! It takes ten tailors to make a man, and ten schoolmasters to make a tailor; Puddicombe excepted’that was a man, and was so highly respected, he knew how to make himself looked up to, and folk forgave him his profession for his own sake. But this new whipper-snapper! And to be rejected for _him_!”