“A mortal long time afore _I_'m wanted!” exclaimed Miss Lavender, with assumed grimness, as she obeyed the call. “I s'pose you thought there was no watch needed, and both ends o' the path open to all the world. Well--what am _I_ to do?--move mountains like a grain o' mustard seed (or however it runs), dip out th' ocean with a pint-pot, or ketch old birds with chaff, eh?” Gilbert, aware that she was familiar with the particular difficulties on Martha's side, now made her acquainted with his own. At the mention of his mother's declaration in regard to his birth, she lifted her hands and nodded her head, listening, thenceforth to the end, with half-closed eyes and her loose lips drawn up in a curious pucker. “What do you think of it?” he asked, as she remained silent. “Think of it? About as pretty a snarl as ever I see. I can't say as I'm so over and above taken aback by what your mother says. I've all along had a hankerin' suspicion of it in my bones. Some things seems to me like the smell o' water-melons, that I've knowed to come with fresh snow; you know there _is_ no water-melons, but then, there's the smell of 'em! But it won't do to hurry a matter o' this kind--long-sufferin' and slow to anger, though that don't quite suit, but never mind, all the same--my opinion is, ye've both o' ye got to wait!” “Betsy, do you know nothing about it? Can you guess nothing?” Gilbert persisted. She stole a quick glance at Martha, which he detected, and a chill ran through his blood. His face grew pale. “Nothin' that fits your case,” said Miss Lavender, presently. She saw the renewal of Gilbert's suspicion, and was casting about in her mind how to allay it without indicating something else which she wished to conceal. “This I'll say,” she exclaimed at last, with desperate frankness, “that I _do_ know somethin' that may be o' use, when things comes to the wust, as I hope they won't, but it's neither here nor there so far as _you two_ are concerned; so don't ask me, for I won't tell, and if it's to be done, _I'm_ the only one to do it! If I've got my little secrets, I'm keepin' 'em in your interest, remember that!” There was the glimmer of a tear in each of Miss Lavender's eyes before she knew it. “Betsy, my dear friend!” cried Gilbert, “we know you and trust you. Only say this, for my sake--that you think my mother's secret is nothing which will part Martha and me!” “Martha and me. I _do_ think so--am I a dragon, or a--what's that Job talks about?--a behemoth? It's no use; we must all wait and see what'll turn up. But, Martha, I've rather a bright thought, for a wonder; what if we could bring Alf. Barton into the plot, and git him to help us for the sake o' _his_ bein' helped?” Martha looked surprised, but Gilbert flushed up to the roots of his hair, and set his lips firmly together.