“That’s the thing I’d like to hear!” cried Timothy. “Read me riddles, Gammer. Tell me my fate in marriage, and when the girl is coming, and what she’ll be like. Tell me, and I’ll give thee a golden guinea!” Now it fell out, strangely enough, that the white witch knew certain facts hidden from her questioner—facts that none the less concerned him in some measure. She had that forenoon visited Bellever Barton to find the household of the farm in some confusion. The Christmas guests had arrived three days earlier than they were expected; that circumstance being explained by an opportunity to travel cheaply to Moretonhampstead on a stage-coach, some of whose passengers had failed it. From Moreton to Postbridge was no great matter, and the male travellers had ridden that distance, bringing their luggage on a packhorse and their ladies upon pillions behind them. In the bustle and confusion caused by this premature advent, Gammer Gurney was kept waiting in the buttery—treatment very rarely extended to her dignity. But this delay had not been wasted. A garrulous housekeeper explained circumstances to the old woman and added that one of the newcomers, a girl of a fair face, reserved manners and great good sense, had won Farmer Chave’s heart, and was by him secretly destined for Timothy without that young man’s knowledge. This maiden the Gammer had seen and spoken with before she departed homeward; but as for Tim, he knew nothing of the business. Thus it may be guessed what excellent matter for a prophecy was now at the hand of the white witch. Indeed, she had oftentimes done miracles in the public esteem with less promising material. Nevertheless, this circumspect woman shewed no eagerness to take young Chave at his word. “Best to think twice ’fore you ax me that,” she answered. “’Tis a serious deed, boy, and not to be undertaken in a light spirit. Mind this tu: the truth ban’t always sweet or what our ears are best tuned for hearin’.” Her respectful manner vanished upon the introduction of this theme. She now spoke as the young man’s superior. Timothy was not frightened from his purpose, however, and screwed his face into solemnity. Then he winked behind Gammer Gurney’s back at John Aggett, who, knowing well how witches have eyes behind and before, doubted not that the action had been observed and was much discomfited in consequence. “Here’s your guinea, mother; that’ll shew you I’m in solemn earnest upon this matter.” The wise woman instantly swept up the coin. “If you will, you will,” she said.