Simon, however, had no clue to this sudden appearance at his journey’s end. He sat still in the trap as she came swiftly through the yard, and then leaned out to address her with an anxious frown. "Nay, now whatever’s brought you trapesin’ here so late? Nowt wrong, is there? Father badly again? Is he axin’ for me, by any chance?" She reassured him with a shake of the head and a smile, and, as in the case of Mr. Dent, he felt a sudden resentment towards smiles. In all his life Simon had never encountered so many smiling faces as had looked at him that day. "All’s right, thank you.... Father’s much about the same. I wanted a word with Mrs. Thornthet, that was all. "You’ve been a terble while on the road, though!" she added gaily, before he could speak. "I’d about made up my mind as I’d have to be getting back." "We were kept at Blindbeck, that’s how it was," Simon said, remembering suddenly and with gloom the precise circumstances under which they had been kept. "But if you nobbut wanted a word wi’ the missis, you could surely ha’ waited while morn. It’s a daft-like trick to be lakin’ on t’sands when it’s getting dark." His words made her turn again to throw a glance at the inn, but still there was no summoning gleam from the room upstairs. "Ay, but tide isn’t till six," she answered him coaxingly, turning back, "and I shan’t be long. Father’ll show a light for me when it’s time I was setting off." Sarah, ignoring the pair of them, had already clambered out, and Simon remembered that he had the horse to stable and the cows to milk and feed. "Danged foolishness, that’s what it is!" he growled, as he scrambled down, giving May a very unaccustomed scowl. "If I did as I ought, I’d be skifting you pretty sharp. Say what you’ve gitten to say, and then clear out!" Sarah had been moving away from them towards the house, but, as May followed her, she swung about. There was no invitation, however, in her rigid face. "You’ve nowt to say as I know on," she said in a curt tone, "and I’m rarely tired. Anyway, there’s no sense in lossing yourself for a bit of a chat." "I’ll not lose myself, not I!" May laughed, advancing towards her, full of kindly warmth. She had been prepared for some such reception as this, and was not depressed. "What, I’ve been across that often, it’s the same to me as the road! I’ve been over when it was snowing,--ay, and by moonlight, too. As for Geordie," she added, with a tender laugh, "he’s crossed in the pitch dark, with only his nose to tell him where he was at! "I was bound to ask you again before I slept," she urged, casting a glance at Simon, busy with the horse. "Can’t I come in a minute?--I won’t be long. It’s late to be telling my business in the yard." "You’ve no business wi’ me," Sarah said stolidly, "so you can stop off yon weam voice. You’re not coming into Sandholes to-night, May Fleming, so that’s flat!"