The old woman threw up her grey head, like a war horse, and looked defiance at him. “Then, Master Dandy,” she said fiercely—“if yer turn me and old Toby out in the road, I’ve got to tell yer a bit o’ my mind. You’re a Chater—and you’ve got the Chater blood in you, I suppose—because I knowed your blessed father and mother, now in their graves. But there it ends; for you’ve got some other black heart in you, that never belonged to them. There’s not a man or woman, in the countryside, but wot won’t shake their ’eads, w’en they ’ears your name—an’ well you knows it. Oh—if on’y my boy ’ad lived, wot a Chater ’e would ’ave been!” For some hidden reason, the man seemed strangely moved by that last despairing phrase from her lips; indeed, as she bowed her old face down on her hands, with a moan, he made a sudden movement, with outstretched arms, as though he would have taken her within them and comforted her. But when, a moment afterwards, she looked up, with the former stern expression settling on her features, the man was simply watching her keenly, with his hands thrust in his pockets. “What are you talking about?” he asked, slowly. “What about your boy?” She hesitated for a moment, even glancing round at the door behind her; then came a little nearer to him. “I ain’t never said anything about it, Master Dandy, because I thought the story was dead and buried like my poor boy—an’ I didn’t think as ’ow talkin’ about it would do anybody any good. But it don’t matter now; an’ I’d like you to know, Master Dandy, that for all your pride—your wicked pride—you wouldn’t ’ave no right to be standin’ ’ere, as the master of Chater ’All, if my poor boy ’ad lived.” The man was watching her, more keenly than ever; for the sake of appearances, however, he let a smile play round his mouth, and then broke into a laugh. “Ah—you may laugh, Master Dandy. Wot if I tell you that you had a brother—an elder brother, Master Dandy, though only by a matter of minutes.” “What on earth are you talking about?” asked the man; though only for the sake of appearances again—for he had heard the story from her lips, a long, long time before.