"Oh, is that Yorkshire!" Toni coloured with excitement. "Mr. Herrick, my father came from there! All his people did--but they're dead now, and I've never been North!" "Really?" He was to the full as much interested in the coincidence as she. "Well, our good landlady is certainly a Yorkshire woman--and I hope she'll give us a real Yorkshire tea!" His hope was fulfilled when the buxom Mrs. Spencer returned, which she speedily did. She carried a tray laden not only with cups and saucers, but with an assortment of cakes which would have rejoiced the heart of a Yorkshire child. "Them's crud cheesecakes," said she, beaming on the pair, "an' these fat rascals is to-day's bake--and the griddle cakes an' all." She laid the table deftly. "I'll fetch the tea-pot and t' cream, and then ye can help yersens." When she put down the tea-pot, however, Herrick detained her with a question. "You don't belong to these parts, Mrs. Spencer?" "No, sir." She shook her head blithely. "I'm a Yorkshire woman, praise the pigs! Married a South-country man, I did--and often wished as I 'adn't--when 'e wur alive, that's to say." "Since his demise you've altered your mind?" "Well, he left me pretty well provided for," returned the late Spencer's widow comfortably, "an' I won't say as 'e wur an out-an-out bad 'usband. But somehow I can't abide South-country folk." "They say we Yorkshire tykes are a rough lot," said Herrick, smiling, and she took up the challenge at once. "Oh, that's all my eye and Betty Martin," she returned in the vernacular of her youth, "I grant you there's a lot of soft-sawder about the fellers down here, but they ain't in it wi' us up in Yorkshire." "Where do you come from, Mrs. Spencer? I'm a dalesman myself; Wensleydale's my native land." "I'm from Thirsk, sir. My mother was washerwoman to lots of the gentry round, and my people still lives there, in a cottage on the Green." "Ah, I know Thirsk--fine old church there, one of the finest in the North Riding. You've never been there, Mrs. Rose?" He turned to include Toni in the conversation, and found her wide-eyed and flushed with excitement. "Mr. Herrick, my people lived near Thirsk--in a farm at Feliskirk in the hills. Oh, do you think she knew them?" Mrs. Spencer, who had hitherto overlooked Toni, turned to her in surprise. "If you'll tell me the name, miss--ma'am. We knew most of t' people in t' neighbourhood." "Gibbs--their name was Gibbs." She spoke breathlessly. "The house was called the Green Farm. Oh, do you know anything about them?" "Gibbs? The Green Farm?" Mrs. Spencer stared incredulously. "Why, I knew old Gregory Gibbs well--and a fine old fellow he was too. And Fred and Roger--why, I knew 'em both. They used to come down into t' town on market days with their dad, and a pair of jolly little lads they were an' all--especially Roger." "Roger was my father," said Toni quietly, and Mrs. Spencer uttered an exclamation.