“But you can’t deny, Nancy, ’at you’ve been same as a dog with a sore tail ever since Jagger left,” pleaded Keturah whose idea of storms fell short of whirlwinds, and who, like many another nagging woman was a coward at heart. “I’m sure there’s been no living with you, you’ve been that contrairy.” “Then we’d better part,” rejoined Nancy, “and that’ll maybe suit us all.” Hereupon Baldwin growled a suggestion that instead of clacking like a couple of condemned hens it would be advisable to get on with the tea. Although his brain worked slowly it worked accurately along a certain brass-lined groove, and he had already repented of his attack on Nancy, with whom it was not policy to quarrel beyond remedy. The girl, however, was not so easily appeased. “I can have mine when you’ve finished,” she said, “then foul looks won’t turn the milk sour.” “And that’ll be making work,” protested Keturah, “or anyway it’ll be spreading it out. Draw your chair up and take no notice of Baldwin. You ought to know by this time ’at he’s either to uncork his-self or burst, same as other men.” “I’m going to uncork _my_self,” said Nancy with a fierceness that surprised herself and which was the outcome of her own disturbed mind. “Father might have guessed if he’d looked at your faces what a life you’d lead me between you, and what a life you would have led me if it hadn’t been for my money-bags. But you knew how to use the oil-can when he was alive, and he’d too much to bear to think things out for himself or he’d have put Maniwel in your place. Oh, yes he would——” she continued, as Baldwin’s face grew red and his hands tightened on the arms of his chair—“I’ve thought it many a thousand times same as all t’ rest o’ t’ village, and I may as well let it come out. You have to uncork yourself, have you, or else burst? Well, you can see how you like other folk to uncork _them_selves!” Keturah was standing horrified, but sundry soliloquies such as “Eh, dear, dear!” “Now, hark to t’ lass!” “If this doesn’t beat all!” showed that her breath had not been altogether lost, whereas anger had momentarily paralysed Baldwin’s tongue. When he recovered himself he rose, and seizing Nancy roughly by the shoulder pushed her towards the door. “Outside wi’ you!” he shouted, and the oaths he poured out called forth a protest even from his sister whose “Nay, for shame, Baldwin!” fell on deaf ears. “Way wi’ you to Maniwel, you ungrateful——” But why continue to string together the coarse language that made Keturah hold her apron to her ears and caused Nancy to wrench herself free and wheel round upon him with a face that was white but strangely composed.