Simon included in one surly glance the faces round the loaded table, the bright flowers, the china with the gilded rim, and the new window-curtains which he would never even have seen in any house but this. "Plush, by the look on ’em, and the price of a five pun note!" he thought resentfully, as he stood waiting to be given a place, and wondering which of the people present he disliked the most. There were the two Swainson lasses from the nearest farm, with their young duke of a brother, who was in a Witham bank. There was a Lancashire youth whom Will had taken as pupil, and Stephen Addison and his missis, who were both of them preaching-mad. He held forth at chapel and she at Institute meetings and the like, and folk said they kept each other awake at nights, practising which of them could do it best. There was Sam Battersby of Kitty Fold, who never knew where his own heaf ended and other people’s began, and the familiar smug cousin, long since formally pledged to Eliza’s eldest lass. There was a grandchild or two, and of course the Blindbeck brood, with the exception of a couple of married daughters and the obliterated Jim.... It was small wonder, indeed, that, after all those years, nobody missed him in that upcoming crowd. Eliza’s hearty voice, that was never hearty at core, rose like a strong-winged, evil bird at the unwanted guests. The sight of them seemed to surprise her so much that she dropped a gold-rimmed cup. "Surely to goodness, Simon and Sarah, yon’s never you! I’d give you up an hour back or more, I had indeed. You’ve been a terble while on t’road, surely,--a terble while after us? But there,--I always forget how fast yon grand little mare of ours gets over t’ground! You’d need to start sooner than most folk wi’ your poor old crock." She broke off to throw a remonstrance at Will, who was bundling two of his daughters out of their seats to make room for their uncle and aunt. "Nay, now, Will," she called vexedly down the table. "What d’ye think you’re at? Leave t’lasses alone, can’t you? Let the poor things be! If it’s a chair you’re wanting, there’s one here by me as’ll suit Sarah just grand. Sarah can’t abide a chair wi’ a cane bottom,--says it rubs her gown. It’s right enough, too, I’m sure, wi’ velvet and the like,--(I made a bonny mess o’ yon grand gown I had when Annie Belle was wed),--but I can’t see as it’ll do any harm to a bit o’ poorish serge. Anyway, Sarah can have the best plush to set on, if she sets here, and, as for Simon, you’re for ever sticking him where I can’t so much as see the end of his nose! You’re never thinking I’m still sweet on him, surely," she added, laughing, "or that happen he’ll be making sheep’s eyes at me, as he used to do?"