"There, sit thee down," said Mrs Slee. "I know what you mean. There, sit down, and don't get theeing and thouing me about. A deal you care for me." This was in answer to a rough caress, as she bustled about, and got a basinful of the soup for her lord, with a great hunk of bread; and without more ado Sim took his seat. "Oh, I'm not going to yeat this," he said. "I'm just going to taste what sorter moock he gives the pore out of his bounty." "Howd thee tongue and eat," said Mrs Slee, contemptuously. Sim played with the spoon, and splashed the soup about, ending by tasting it and retasting, and then taking some bread and going heartily to work. "Say, moother," he exclaimed, "it won't do; that's the broth you've been makking for the parson hissen. It ain't to give away." "That's made o' the meat as the parson went and scratted up from the butcher's, and the baskets o' bones and beasts' heads, and all the rubbish he could get together," said Mrs Slee sourly. "I'll say it's good soup," said Sim, finishing his basin. "Say, moother, give's another soop." "He said I was to give some to anybody who wanted," said Mrs Slee; and then, with a grim smile, she refilled his basin, while Sim drew out his handkerchief, spread it on his knees, and polished off the second basin in a very few minutes. "You can't get me to believe as that soup's going to be gin away," he said as he rose. "That'll be wattered till it's thin as thin. Theer, I'm off again. I've a deal to see to;" and without another word he hurried away. "Yes, he's gotten his fill," said Mrs Slee, directing a look of contempt after her husband; but as she crossed the kitchen she saw something white under the chair Sim had occupied, and stooping down picked up a note in a very small envelope, whose address she spelled out: "Miss Banks, By hand." "What's he gotten to do wi' takkin letters to Daisy Banks?" she exclaimed, as a hot feeling of jealousy came upon her for the moment. Then, with a half-laugh she said, "No, no, it ain't that: he's too old and unheppen, and she's ower young and pretty. He's takkin it for some one. Whose writing will it be? He's coming back." She stopped short, hearing a step, and darted out of the kitchen just as Sim came softly up, peered in and looked eagerly about the floor and under the table. "Mebbe I've dropped it somewheers else," he muttered, starting off again, while Mrs Slee had another good look at the letter, and ended by depositing it in her bosom. "I'll give it to parson," she said at last, and then resumed her work. Meanwhile, Murray Selwood was retracing his steps on the way to Bultitude's farm, but before he reached the place he came upon John Maine once more, looking eagerly across the fields. "Well, Maine, how's the head?" said the vicar, making the young man start, for the grass had deadened his tread. "What can you see--game?" "I'm afraid it is, sir," said the young man, bluntly--"the sportsman and the hare."