"Now, ain't that Jerrem all over?" exclaimed Joan angrily, anything but pleased at the neglect she had suffered--"just flyin' in the face o' everything Adam wants done. He knaws how things has got abroad afore, nobody could tell how, and yet, 'cos he's axed, he can't keep a quiet tongue in his head." "I tell you what we'll do," said Eve--"not take a bit of notice of the letter, Joan, and just act as if we'd never had it: shall we?" "Well, I reckon 'twould be the best way, for I shouldn't wonder but they be comin'," she added, while Eve, anxious to be rid of the letter, hastily flung it into the fire and stood watching it blaze up and die out. "Jonathan gave a hint o' somethin'," continued Joan, "though he never named no time, which, if he was trusted with, he knaws better than to tell of." "I wonder they do trust him, though," said Eve, "seeing he's rather silly?" "Awh! most o' his _silly_ is to serve his own turn. Why, to see un elsewheres you'd say he'd stored up his wits to Polperro, and left 'em here till he gets back agen; and that's how 'tis he ferrets out the things he does, 'cos nobody minds un nor pays no heed to un; and if he does by chance come creepin' up or stand anigh, ''Tis only poor foolish Jonathan,' they says." CHAPTER XXV. The sun which came streaming in through the windows next morning seemed the herald of coming joy. Eve was the first to be awakened, and she soon aroused Joan. "It won't make no difference to them because the day's fine," she asked: "will it, Joan?" "Not a bit: they don't care a dump what the day is, so long as the night's only dark enough; and there'll be no show o' moon this week." "Oh, I'm so glad!" said Eve, breaking out into a snatch of an old song which had caught her fancy. "Awh, my dear, don't 'ee begin to sing, not till breakfast is over," exclaimed Joan. "'Sing afore you bite, cry afore night.'" "Cry with joy perhaps," laughed Eve; still, she hushed her melody and hastened her speed to get quickly dressed and her breakfast over. That done with, the house had to be fresh put in order, while Joan applied herself to the making of various pies and pastries; "For, you see," she said, "if they won't all of 'em be just ready for a jollification this time, and no mistake!" "And I'm sure they deserve to have one," said Eve, whose ideas of merrymaking were on a much broader scale now than formerly. It was true she still always avoided the sight of a drunken man and ran away from a fight, but this was more because her feelings were outraged at these sights than because her sense of right and wrong was any longer shocked at the vices which led to them. "I'll tell 'ee what I think I'll do," said Joan as, her culinary tasks over, she felt at liberty to indulge in some relaxation: "I'll just run in to Polly Taprail's and two or three places near, and see if the wind's blowed them any of this news."