"I left my trunk at the station," Hester went on, flushing yet redder with annoyance. "And this here belongs to Mother Butson," declared Tom Trevarthen, red also. "I'm fetchin' it home for her." "Then take and pitch it into the tail of the trap; and you, my dear, hand up your bag and climb up alongside o' me. We'll drive back to station, fetch your trunk, and be back in time to overtake Tom at the top o' the hill and give him a lift home. There's plenty room for three on the seat--that is, by squeezin' a bit." "You're very kind, Nuncey," said Tom Trevarthen sullenly. "But I'll not take a lift alongside o' _she_; and I'll not trouble you with my load, neither." "Please yourself, you foolish mortal, you. But--I declare! You _must_ have had a tiff!" "No tiff at all," corrected Tom, sturdily wrathful. "It's despise her I do--comin' here and drivin' an old 'ooman to the workhouse!" He turned on his heel and trudged away stubbornly up the hill. Nuncey gazed back at him for a moment over her shoulder. "Never saw Tom in such a tear in all my life," she commented cheerfully. "Take 'en all the week round, you couldn't find a better-natered boy. Well, jump up, my dear, and we'll fit and get your trunk. He may be cured of his sulks by time we overtake 'en." Undoubtedly Hester had excuses enough for feeling hurt and annoyed; yet what mainly hurt and annoyed her (though she would not confess it) was that this sailor and this girl had each taken her as one on equal terms with themselves. She was a sensible girl, by far too sensible to nurse on second thoughts a conceit that she was their superior simply because she spoke better English. Yet habit had taught her to expect some degree of deference from those who spoke incorrectly; and we are all touchier upon our vaguely reasoned claims than upon those of which we have perfect assurance. "J'p, Pleasant!" Nuncey called to the grey horse, flicking him lightly with the whip. The ill-balanced trap seesawed down the slope, and soon was spinning along the cliff-road, across which the wind blew with such force that Hester caught at her hat. "Never mind a bit of breeze, my dear. And as for the touch of damp, 'tis nobbut the pride o' the mornin'. All for heat and pilchar's, as the saying is: we shall have it broiling hot afore noon. Now I come to think of it, 'tis high time we made our introductions. I'm Nuncey Benny--that's short for Annunciation. This here hoss and trap belongs to my mother. She's a regrater when in health; but there's a baby come. That makes eleven of us. You'll find us a houseful." "Your father was kind enough to offer me,"--began Hester. "Iss," broke in Nuncey; "father's kind, whatever else he may be. As for considerin' where to stow you, that never crossed his head. You mustn't think, my dear, that you bain't welcome. Only--well, I may so well get it over soon as late--you'll have to put up with a bed in the room with me. Shall you mind?"