"He was at the Buffaloes last night, and when they came away he heard one man say to another that you was Wilson's fancy lady----" She paused and added in a low tone: "They said you'd been stopping out all night." "Uncle knows I didn't," said Caroline, beginning to tremble. "What beasts men are! Didn't uncle tell them?" "Oh yes; he told 'em right enough. But he come home in a fine rage, I can tell you. He said he wasn't going to have no more of it: and I believe he would have gone straight to Miss Temple--only she has always behaved very decent to us, and he didn't like to make mischief, seeing she is so set on the feller." "Why didn't uncle come to me?" said Caroline. "Why didn't you make him, aunt?" Mrs. Creddle shook her head. "When you know as much about men as I do----" "But what was his reason?" asked Caroline. "He said it was no good saying anything to you, because when a lass gets feller-fond there's no doing nothing with her. He said he couldn't use the strap to you now, but he wasn't going to have any lass belonging to him talked about in that way." There was a moment's silence. "Did uncle tell you what Mr. Wilson said?" Then she threw up her head. "But I expect he threatened to go for uncle." "Go for him!" echoed Mrs. Creddle. "Not he. He only wanted to get away and not have a scandal in the place." "I don't believe that," said Caroline. "Uncle can say what he likes, but I don't believe that." "It's true, my lass," said Mrs. Creddle kindly. "I ran along to tell you now, for fear you should come across Wilson or your uncle before you knew. He promised on his honour to have naught no more to do with you." "Did he?" said Caroline, her blazing eyes very near to her aunt's in that tiny place. "Then he is a day too late for the fair--and uncle too. You may tell uncle that. I haven't seen Mr. Wilson for ten days or more, and I'll never enter uncle's house again as long as I live." "You mustn't talk like that, honey," said Mrs. Creddle. "Uncle took it to heart because he thinks such a lot of you. But you'll soon find some nice young feller in your own station of life next time: don't go hankering after a gentleman, my dear. You would never get one of the best sort, and the other sort's no good to you." She sighed. "But you always had high notions, Carrie, though I don't know where you get them from. I suppose they're going about." With that Mrs. Creddle opened the little door of the pay-box, and let in a blast of air that nearly blew her hat from her head; then she hurried down the wind-swept road in order to get her husband's dinner ready before that already irritated breadwinner should return.