“Where’s Nell?” asked Ivy. “Up wud her father, surelye. He’s bin easier to-day, but he’s a tedious cross oald man these times. You’d never think the pacerfist and objectious conscience he’s got lying in bed and reading the paapers and wanting things to eat and drink as he can’t git—reckon he’d stop the War to-morrow for a bit of cheese.” “Kadwell bin here any more?” “Reckon he never misses—it’ll be Nell’s turn next after Polly. You’d best maake haste, Ivy Beatup, or at the raate we’re going, you’ll be the only oald maid left in the parish.” “Ha! ha!” laughed Ivy, with her mouth full of bread. “But Nell ull be a fool if she marries him,” she added seriously. “He aun’t her kind. I know him, and he’s a bit of a swine, I reckon.” “Reckon he’s a valiant, stout chap, and Nell ull be a fool if she says no.” Ivy did not argue the matter, but before she went away she made an opportunity to speak to her sister alone. “Nell, you haven’t promised Steve Kadwell?” Nell did not answer for a moment—she looked dazed. Then she said slowly: “Yes—I promised him on Sunday.” “Then write and tell him you’ve changed your mind.” “Why?” “Because you’re a fool. You know quite well he aun’t the chap for you—you, wud all your liddle dentical ways!” The tears came into Nell’s eyes. “I love him.” Ivy stared critically at her. She seemed to have altered. “Have you told mother?” “No.” “When are you going to be married?” “I dunno—we haven’t talked about it yet.” “Well, doan’t be in a hurry—give him a good think over.” She had no time to say more, and realised that there was not much more to be said. Nell seemed dazed and foolish, like a pilgrim lost in a strange land. 8 Sunday Street was dazzled by its multitude of marriages. There had been Tom Beatup’s, not a year ago, then the curate’s, and Polly Sinden’s, on the top of each other in January, and now, in February, Nell Beatup’s. The last was a surprise; who would have thought, asked the village, that Nell would be married before Ivy? One or two mothers improved their daughters’ minds with the moral of demure, gentle Nell’s marrying before her sister with her loud, friendly ways. There was some jealousy, too, for Kadwell, heir of Stilliands Tower, was considered a good match, though a certain amount of suspicion attached locally to his morals, due to his having once spent a leave in Paris.