“Oh, they come in the best intentioned families—they’re certain to come. You’ll fret, and you’ll fume, and you’ll say ’ard things to one another, and you’ll get a little away from each other, but if you’re a sensible miss, as I take you to be by that glint in your eyes, you’ll come together again. Things will be all right if you’ll only use common sense and bear and forbear. That’s it, my dear young lady. Bear and forbear. That’s what I’d like to say to my darter, who’s lately married, but she wouldn’t hear it from me.” “And why should she not hear it from you, for it is excellent advice?” said Barbara. “But you say you’re a stranger to these parts.” “I come from the next county, Miss.” “And you want to say something to me?” “I thought I’d call in, for I’m sort of curious. Seems to me as I know your name.” “I daresay you have heard it before. The Pelhams of Pelham Towers are well known.” “In their own county, no doubt,” said the old woman, “but not in mine, at least, not among the cottagers.” “But you have heard the name?” “Aye, and that’s my secret.” “You look rather fagged with your walk. You must come down to the house with me and have something to eat. You don’t look too strong.” “But I am, my dear; I’m as strong as can be. I’ll be seventy my next birthday. Come November I’ll have done my three score years and ten, but dear heart, there ain’t no failing about me. I’m a bit withered—ripe, I tells the child.” “Oh, you have a child. Is he your own?” “Not he. He’s a little lad what lives with me. I call ’im my own child, for I’m fond of him. Yes, I’ll come to the house with you if you like. I’d be glad of a bite and a sup. Beer is what I takes. I can’t abear tea—it’s washy stuff.” “You shall have a glass of beer and some cold meat. Come this way.” “But you was going for a ride on that wicked-looking machine,” said the old woman. “Oh, the ride can keep,” returned Barbara. “I’ll come with you and make you comfortable.” As she spoke she turned her bicycle and walked down the long avenue by the little woman’s side. “This is a powerful big place,” said Mrs. Ives. “It is,” answered Barbara. “Your husband must be a rich man.” “He is, very.” “Now, I wonder has you any other places to call your own?” “I believe we have several.” “Dear heart! it seems too much for a young couple. You’ll be wore out with the responsibility of ’em, my deary. You’d ha’ done a deal better to pray the prayer of Agar and be satisfied with what he asked the Almighty for.” “I don’t remember what he wanted at this moment,” replied Barbara with a smile.