Mrs Banks submitted ungraciously to a salute being placed upon her comely cheek, and then, satisfied that no one was hurt, she proceeded to fill up the pot, and resumed her taciturn behaviour. "Owd woman's a bit popped," said Joe to himself. Then aloud, "Wheer's Daisy?" "That's what I want to know," said Mrs Banks, tartly. "Wheer's Daisy? There's no keeping the girl at home now-a-days, gadding about." "Is she up at the House?" said Joe. "I suppose so," said Mrs Banks; "and, mark my words, Joe, no good 'll come of it. It's your doing, mind." "Nonsense, nonsense, old woman. What's put you out? Come, let's have some supper; I'm 'bout pined." "Then begin," said Mrs Banks. "Not wi'out you, my lass," said Joe, winking at the great broad-faced clock, as much as to say, "That'll bring her round." "I don't want any supper," said Mrs Banks. "More don't I, then," said Joe, with a sigh; and he got up, took off his coat, and then began to unlace his stout boots. "Bless and save the man! wheer are you going?" exclaimed Mrs Banks. "Bed," said Joe, shortly. "Tired out." "What's the use o' me having sausages cooked and hot ready for you if you go on that a way, Joe?" "I can't eat sausages wi'out a smile wi' 'em for gravy," said Joe, quietly, "and some one to eat one too." "There, sit down," said Mrs Banks, pushing her lord roughly into his well polished Windsor chair. "I don't know what's come to the man." "Come home straange and hungry," said Joe, smiling; and the next minute, on Mrs Banks producing a steaming dish of home-made sausages from the oven, Joe began a tremendous onslaught upon them, after helping his wife, and putting a couple of the best on a plate. "Just put them i' the oven to keep hot for Daisy, wilt ta, my lass?" said Joe. "She won't want any supper," said Mrs Banks, tartly, but she placed the plate in the oven all the same, and after pouring out some tea, set the teapot on the hob. "But she may, my lass, she may," said Joe. "Now, tell us what's wrong," he continued, with his mouth full, after pouring a large steaming cup of tea down his capacious throat. "Tom Podmore's been here," said Mrs Banks. "Only just gone. Didn't you meet him?" "No," said Joe. "Didn't he say nowt about the row?" "Not a word," said Mrs Banks, looking up. "Was he in it?" "Just was," said Joe. "Saved me and the Maister from being knocked to pieces a'most. He's a good plucky chap, is Tom." "Yes, and nicely he gets treated for it," said Mrs Banks, hotly. "Who treats him nicely?" said Joe, with half a slice of bread and butter disappearing. "You--Daisy--everybody." "Self included, my lass!" said Joe. "He allus was a favourite of yours." "Favourite, indeed!" said Mrs Banks. "Joe, mark my words--It'll come home to Daisy for jilting him as she's done; and, as I told him to-night, he's a great stupid ghipes to mind anything about the wicked, deceitful girl."