"Well!" said Fortune, telling her tale with evident glee, "as we went up the blind lane come a little lad running down as hard as ever he could run. `What's ado?' says I. `Mad bull! mad bull!' quoth he. Dolly was a bit frighted, I think; I know I was. But will you believe it, Robin, he takes to his heels without another word, and leaves us two helpless maids a-standing there. Dolly and me, we got over the gate into the stubble-field, and hid behind the hedge; and presently we saw some'at a-coming down the lane, but I thought it came mortal slow for a mad bull. And when it got a bit nigh, lo and behold! it was Widow Goodwin's old dun cow, as had strayed. There she was coming down the lane as peaceable as could be, and staying by nows and thens to crop the grass by the roadside. We'd a good laugh at the mad bull, Dolly and me; and then says I to Dolly, `Let's go and hunt out Robin.' So we turned back, but nought of him could we see till we came to the big bean-field, and then a voice comes through the hedge, `Is he by, maids?' Eh, but he is a coward! Did you think he'd been so white-livered as that?" Farmer Lavender laughed heartily. Jenny was exceedingly disgusted. She tried to persuade herself that Fortune's tale was over-coloured, perhaps spiteful. But one and another present chimed in with anecdotes of Featherstone's want of moral and physical courage, till disbelief became impossible. "How will he get along in France, think you?" said Fortune. "They've naught but frogs to eat there, have they?" On that point the company was divided, being all equally ignorant. But Farmer Lavender's good sense came to the rescue. "Why," said he, "Jenny here tells me Colonel Wyndham's got a Frenchman to his cook; and he'd make a poor cook if he'd never dressed nought but frogs, I reckon." "They'll have a bit o' bread to 'em, like as not," suggested the waggoner. "Well, I must be going," said Fortune, rising. "Jenny, what's come of your grand gown as Mrs Jane gave you? We looked to see you in it this Sunday. Folks 'll think it's all a make-up if you put it off so long." "'Tisn't finished making up," said Kate, laughing. "You'll see me in it next Sunday, if you choose to look," replied Jenny, in a rather affronted tone. She was put out by Fortune's hint that the dress was considered a fiction; and she was thoroughly annoyed by the story about Featherstone's cowardly conduct. Bravery was one of the qualities that Jenny particularly admired; and she could not help feeling angry with Featherstone for thus lowering himself in her esteem. She thought of it many times during the week, when she was altering the flowered tabby to fit herself, and by the time that the dress was finished, Jenny's regard for Robin Featherstone was about finished also. Love she had never had for him; but he had flattered her vanity, and she liked it.