This was accompanied by pantings, and snorts, and little stamps of the foot, and a general look about poor Mary as if she were going to pull off her bonnet, jump upon it, and tear down her hair. "Oh, you foolish old thing!" I cried, flying at her and literally hugging her in my delight at seeing her so soon, in the midst of my trouble. "Be quiet, Master Antony," she cried wrathfully, but throwing one arm round me as she spoke, in reply to my embrace. "But I won't stand it, that I won't." "But, my good woman," faltered Linny. "Don't you `good woman' me, slut!" cried Mary furiously. "I was going to give up and let you nurse him and till him, for aught I cared, but I won't now. He's engaged to me these four years, and he's mine, and this is my place and room, and out you go, and the sooner the better; and--as for B--B--B--Bill--do take your hand from before my mouth, Master Antony! You're a boy and don't understand things. Now, then, madam, you pack!" "Mary, be quiet!" I cried; "this is Mr Hallett's sister, who kindly came to help nurse poor Bill till you could come. Bill does not know her; he never saw her before, but once." "Only once?" said Mary suspiciously. "No, and then only for a minute. How could you be so foolish?" "Because--because--because--" said Mary, bursting out into a passion of sobbing, "because my heart was half broke about my boy, and I only stopped to pack up a bundle and came--and then--when I found that pretty darling here, I--I--oh, my dear--my dear--my dear!" she cried, flinging herself on her knees at Linny's feet, clutching her dress, and burying her wet face in the folds; "please--please--please forgive me, and don't take no notice of my mad, foolish words. I've--I've--I've got such a temper! It's a curse to me--and I was nearly distracted. Some day, p'r'aps, you'll feel as bad and jealous as I did. Please--please forgive me!" "Oh, yes, yes, yes!" cried Linny, whose tears now began to flow, and who, kneeling down in turn, drew poor Mary's face to her breast, and the two remained thus, while I went and looked out of the window. "Please--pray--forgive me!" sobbed Mary. "Oh yes, yes, I do, indeed!" whispered Linny. "Antony is right; I never saw Mr Revitts but once, and I believe he is a very good man, and loves you dearly." "That he is, and that he does," cried Mary, raising her red face, and throwing back her hair. "Though I don't know why he should care for such a crooked-tempered, rough-tongued thing as I am." I thought I could understand why, as I saw Mary's lit-up face, with her bonnet fallen back, and in spite of her distress looking quite as handsome as she was warm-hearted. "But you do forgive me, dear?" she faltered, kissing Linny's hands again and again. "Forgive you?" cried Linny, kissing her ruddy cheek, "of course I do; you couldn't help making the mistake."