"'Deed I do. No wonder the Lord wouldn't trust thee with a daughter of thy own, the way thou's brought up this one. The slut! The strumpet! Away with thee and look for her--it will become thee better." But Dan having finished his work was now plunging down the glen and old Will Skillicorne had come out of his house half dressed, with his braces hanging behind him. "Come in, woman--lave the man to God," said Will. "God indeed! The dirt! The ugly black toad! God wouldn't bemane Himself talking to the like." "Thou's done it this time, though, I'm thinking. Thou heard what he said about Hollantide?" "Chut! Get thee back to bed. What's thou putting thy mouth in for? Who knows where the man himself will be by that time?" With a face like a black cloud after this encounter, Dan threw down his pick on the cobbles of the street and went into the kitchen to work off his anger on his wife. "That's what thou's done for me, ma'am! There's not a trollop in the parish that isn't throwing thy daughter's bad doings in my face." The kitchen was full of smoke, for the porridge in the oven-pot had been allowed to burn, and it was not until he was standing back to the fire, putting his pipe in the pocket of his open waistcoat, that Dan saw Bessie where she had seated herself, after breaking out of her mother's arms, by the table and in the darkest corner. He took in the girl's situation at a glance, but after the manner of the man he pretended not to do so. "God bless my soul," he cried. "Back, is she? Well, well! But what did I say, mother? 'No need to send the Cross Vustha (the fiery cross) after her, she'll come home.' And my goodness the grand woman's she's grown! Fur caps and fur-lined cloaks and I don't know the what! Just come to put a sight on the mother and the ould man, I suppose. No pride at all at all! I wouldn't trust but there's a grand carriage waiting for her at the corner of the road." "Aisy, man, aisy," said Mrs. Collister, picking up her stick, "don't thou see the girl has walked?" "Walked, has she?" said Dan, raising his thick eyebrows in pretended astonishment. "You don't say! All the way from Castletown? Well, well! So that's how it is, is it? The young waistrel has thrown her over, has he?" Bessie had to put her hand to her throat to keep back the cry that was bubbling up. "Aisy, man, aisy with the like," said the old woman. But Dan was for showing no mercy. "Goodness me, the airs she gave herself going away! I might shut my door on her, but there would be others to open theirs. And now they have opened them, and shut them too, I'm thinking." Bessie, crushed and silent, was clutching the end of the table. Dan stepped over to her, laid hold of her left hand, lifted it up, as if looking for her wedding ring, and then flung it away.