“I don’t know what you mean by troubles,” said Mrs. Beacham, stirring her tea with a great accession of energy. “John’s wife isn’t likely to have much of _them_, I fancy. The work’us isn’t built, no, nor yet the alms’us, that’s to hold her, I’m thinking. We can pay our way, and can put a pound or two on one side at the end of the twelvemonth; and for that,” she added solemnly, “I’m thankful to the Lord this day.” The widow, feeling slightly rebuffed by her friend’s serious tone of remonstrance, was silenced for a while; the occasion was, however, too tempting to be lost, so she continued with greater caution the difficult task of opening her companion’s eyes to the truth. “Well, well, mem,” she said soothingly, “to think that you should fancy I had need to be told that! There’s more troubles, though, as we all well knows, than those which comes from poverty, and it was of them I thought it my dooty to speak. I beg pardon if I’ve offended,” dusting the crumbs from her company silk dress as she spoke. “It’s a painful thing is dooty, and what’s got through at all times with a heffort, which, as the Bible says, is its own reward.” “I know what the Bible says as well as you do,” retorted Mrs. Beacham loftily, “which I read it times and often when other folks that shall be nameless is in their beds; and if you come to dooty, Jane Thwaytes, let me tell you that--” “Lor’ bless me!” put in the general dealer in a fright, “you’re taking me altogether wrong, mem; it was t-totally of someone else I was a-speaking, and, indeed, a-thinking of. There’s many a night, if you’ll believe _me_, that I’ve laid awake a-wishing, and a-wondering how I was to go through with this unpleasantness. People _will_ talk, we know, and injynes won’t stop ’em; but if you was just, maybe, to say a word or two to Mrs. John--” She paused, for something in the hard but still mobile face of her companion revealed that the insidious droppings had taken effect upon the stone, and that the worst part of her evil work, namely, the beginning, had been accomplished. Mrs. Beacham, however, was not the kind of woman to allow (if she knew it) of any, even the most homœopathic triumph, over her either by friend or foe. To whatsoever extent she might dislike her daughter-in-law, and though it is to be feared that she would have welcomed any occasion of either humbling or annoying her son’s petted wife, the proud old woman would have shrunk sensitively from any open scandal, and would have stoutly denied any assertion calculated to bring discredit on the honour of her son. The idea of Honor being spoken of in the manner hinted by the widow Thwaytes, was positively hateful to her, and she parried the affront in her haughtiest and grandest manner.