"We be told, Jane, that the Lard chastens him whom He loves, but we read elsewhere in the holy Book that He chastises them as He hates. When Lizzie died I'd the blasphemeous notion that God A'mighty hated me. And then my faith went a-flutterin' out o' winder. I lay in bed two Sundays, because I dassn't go into my pew. I never spoke to nobody. Yas--I lay abed, fighting Satan. He tempted me rarely." Mrs. Mucklow nodded. "Ah-h-h! You be tellin' a wondersome tale, Susan. Satan nearly had me, near as no matter, when I was a maid. He came gallivantin' along in a red coat...." "A soldier?" "No, a fox-hunting young gentleman. 'Tis a subject I don't care to think about. How did Satan tempt you, Susan?" "Wi' a brandy-bottle. It stood there makin' eyes at me...." "For all the world like my young gentleman." "What saved you, Jane?" "I dunno'. It might ha' been God A'mighty's grace. It might ha' been fear o' consequences.' "Them two things saved me, Jane. But I calls it one thing. God A'mighty's grace made both on us think o' consequences. I says to myself: 'What will Alferd do if his mother don't go churchalong? What'll happen to him, if his mother be known as a drunkard?' And, there and then, Jane, my pore faith come a-flutterin' back, a-shaking its feathers, like a hen after a storm o' rain. And the storm was over, too. It's been warm and sunny for me ever since. Now you know why I be proud o' my Christian feelings." Mrs. Mucklow nodded and finished her cake. She had begun her second cup of tea, when steps were heard upon the stone flags which led from the front wicket to the back door. "'Tis Alferd," said Mrs. Yellam. "And Miss Fancy Broomfield," added Jane Mucklow. "Come to ask your blessing, Susan." "Fiddle!" replied Mrs. Yellam sharply. Within a minute, however, it became plain that Alfred wanted nothing more exciting than a cup of tea for himself and his companion. They had climbed to the top of the down, after visiting Mr. Fishpingle at the Home Farm. Miss Broomfield, formally presented to the elder women and as formally received, looked pale and tired. Possibly, she divined hostility the more penetrating because suppressed. Mrs. Yellam said magnificently: "Please excuse me for welcoming you, Miss Broomfield, in my kitchen." Fancy smiled. "What a pretty kitchen!"