His eyes were on Nancy again, and for the first time she deigned a reply. “That only shows what a good scholar I’ve been,” she said with calm contempt. “‘All for my-sen’ has been the watchword in this house ever since you came into it, so why blame me for adopting it?” Amusement and something not unlike admiration was in Inman’s eyes; but he veiled his feelings. The next moment he said: “We’ll have no stirring up strife, Nancy. Mr. Briggs knows that it was none o’ my doing to ask to be made partner; and whether he believes me or not I want no partnership. But he can’t blame a wife for seeking t’ best she can get for her husband, and especially when she takes ‘No’ for an answer and makes no more to do about it. I say again we’d best forget what’s been said and try to cool down. I’ve told you you’ll have no more trouble with Nancy.” The girl met his meaning glance defiantly, but allowed her expression to speak for her; and Baldwin made no reply of any sort. When the meal was finished Inman signalled to his wife to follow him into the parlour, which had been allocated to their use. “You silly fool!” he began when they were alone; lowering his voice to a whisper and in a tone that was entirely without malice. “Why can’t you play your cards patiently when you’ve a handful of trumps? You’ve only to wait a while and you shall be lady to your heart’s content; but you’ll spoil all if you set Baldwin against me.” She looked up into his face disarmed by the unexpected gentleness. “There was nothing whatever to do,” she replied. “It was cold meat; the potatoes were ready for the pan, and Keturah allows nobody to mix her puddings. If I’d laid the cloth it would have been as much as I should have done.” “Very likely,” assented Inman. “The time’ll come maybe when you can set Keturah her work; but it isn’t yet, and we’ve got to lie low for a while. Partner!”—he laughed with sinister meaning and looked into his wife’s eyes which reflected none of his humour. “We’ll have no partnerships now, my lass. ‘All for my-sen’ is a game two can play at, and the cleverest wins.” He said no more nor did he kiss his wife as he took his leave of her, matrimonial trimmings of that kind not being to his taste—for which relief Nancy was thankful. She remained standing with her eyes on the ground for quite a long time after he was gone, professing to debate with herself her future line of conduct but fearing all the time that she would obey. The power of those steely eyes was over her awake and asleep. “Silly fool indeed!” she muttered as she returned to the kitchen. CHAPTER XII IN WHICH BALDWIN’S SKY BECOMES SLIGHTLY OVERCAST