"She was terrible to meet," continued Betty. "Once as I war walkin' back to Homer after marketing at Wenlock, I looked up and Nan was full in my road, straight against the sky. How her had comed there, I don't know, but there her war, terrible fierce and sudden, and her great eyes seemed to look through and through me, and I fair quailed before her, as they say a partridge does afore a hawk. Every one war feared of Nanny," added old Betty, "for they felt before her as innocent as a child, and what war there as she couldn't do to them? "Nan lived on at Westwood and none dared say her nay, or to refuse her ought, and all the while she went on practising devil's arts, till her got her death." "How was that?" I asked. "Well, it war years agone." And Betty thought for a moment and then added, "'Twas in the year 1857 that Nan got her deserts. "There war a young lodger as had a bed at Nan's, and Nan took to him terrible, and the lovinger her got the more he held back; and the witch played with 'um same as a cat does with a mouse, and wouldn't let 'un off to marry his own sweetheart. So one evening, he went into Wenlock, and he bought a knife, and he stole back to her house, and she called him soft like a throstle. Then while she stirred her pot, he stabbed her to get free of her love philters. When Mr. Yates, who war mace-bearer and barber, comed up, he found Nan, they said, lying in a pool of blood, but they durst not undress her for fear of getting witch's blood, and we all know that that is a special damnation. "Her led a bad life, did Nan," pursued old Betty; "her kept a swarm of cats, and one she called Hellblow and another Satan's Smile, and her had a box of toads to work mysteries with, and these, they said, would hop at night, and leer and talk familiar as spirits, and besides these, there war a pack of wicked books. You yourself, mam, have her card-table where her used to sit. One leg of it higher than the rest, and the ledge below, was where her wickedest toad used to perch--it as they called 'Dew,' and that had been bred up on communion bread, to reveal secrets. Sometimes, I've heard, Nan would fall a-kissin' that toad and whisper to it all sorts of unclean spells. I couldn't abear the table. It might fall to speaking itself at nights, and then the devil only knows what it would say." There was a pause, and then old Betty went on to say-- "After Nan war buried, the books one and all war brought down to the Falcon's Yard Inn and burnt publicly. So that war her end, and a wickeder woman never lived." As the sound of Betty's last words died away, I heard the noise of horses' feet gaily trotting up the lane. "That will be my Bess," I said, "and as the twilight is beginning, I must return." Then I begged that Susie might come and tell me if there is anything I could send for Mrs. Harley, and we passed out of the door. [Sidenote: THE FIRST FLOWERS OF THE YEAR]