But as she took his hand, she added passionately: "An I towd the vicar I couldn't be Bible-woman no more. Theer's somethin broken in me sen Jamie died. I must keep things to mysen--I ain't got nuthin good to say to others--I'm allus _grievin_ at the Lord. Good-bye to yer--good-bye to yer." Her voice had grown absent, indifferent. But when George asked her, just as they were leaving the cottage, who was the boy sitting by the fire, her face darkened. She came hurriedly to the door with them, and said in George's ear: "He's my darter's child--my darter by my first usband. His feyther an mother are gone, an he come up from West Bromwich to live wi me. But he isn't no comfort to me. He don't take no notice of anybody. He set like that, with his football, when Jamie lay a-dyin. I'd as lief be shut on him. But theer--I've got to put up wi im." Letty meanwhile had approached the boy and looked at him curiously. "Do you work in the pits too?" she asked him. The boy stared at her. "Yes," he said. "Do you like it?" He gave a rough laugh. "I reckon yo've got to like it," he said. And turning his back on his questioner, he went back to his almanac. "Don't let us do any more visiting," said George, impatiently, as they emerged into the main street. "I'm out of love with the village. We'll do our blandishments another day. Let's go a little further up the valley and get away from the houses." Letty assented, and they walked along the village, she looking curiously into the open doors of the houses, by way of return for the inquisitive attention once more lavished upon herself and George. "The houses are _quite_ comfortable," she said presently. "And I looked into Mrs. Batchelor's back room while you were talking. It was just as Mrs. Matthews said--such good carpets and curtains, two chests of drawers, and an harmonium--and pictures--and flowers in the windows. George! what are 'butties'?" "'Butties' are sub-contractors," he said absently--"men who contract with the pit-owners to get the coal, either on a large or a small scale--now mostly on a small scale. They engage and pay the colliers in some pits, in others the owners deal direct." "And what is a 'tommy-shop'?" "'Tommy' is the local word for 'truck'--paying in kind instead of in money. You see, the butties and the owners between them used to own the public-houses and the provision-shops, and the amount of coin of the realm the men got in wages in the bad old times was infinitesimal. They were expected to drink the butty's beer, and consume the butty's provisions--at the butty's prices, of course--and the butty kept the accounts. Oh! it was an abomination! but of course it was done away with long ago." "Of course it was!" said Letty, indignantly. "They never remember what's done for them. Did you see what _excellent_ teas there were laid out in some of the houses--and those girls with their hats smothered in feathers? Why, I should never dream of wearing so many!"