“And now you’ll just have your supper, Ann Clapham, and as sharp as may be!” she chirped smartly. “Set down again, if you please, and put up your poor leg!... Now, then, which on you folks is coming to stop the night?” “Nay, I shan’t want nobody, thank ye,” Mrs. Clapham put in quickly, before the women could speak. “It’s right kind, it is that, but I’ll be best alone. I’ll own up I was feeling bad a while back, but I’m better now.” For a while they protested, however, standing about and looking distressed, but Mrs. Clapham remained firm. She sat down as ordered, and put her foot on the tub, and at last the superfluous helpers drifted reluctantly towards the door. “I’ll see t’ house is ready agen your coming back,” Mrs. Airey said in her kind voice, “and I’ll be glad to lend a hand wi’ t’ barns an’ all.” “And I’ll see as there’s summat to eat for you,” added Mrs. Dunn. “I’ve some currant bread o’ my own, though I don’t say it’s a patch on yours.” “I’ll bring you a grand bunch o’ flowers while morning,” was the charming finish of Mrs. James. “I always think there’s summat soothing about a real smart bunch o’ flowers.... Eh, but I’m sorry about yon almshouse, though,” she reverted, as she went out; “and nobody’ll be more put about when they hear it than Mr. Baines!” Then at last they were all gone, with the exception of Mrs. Tanner, and there was no need to thank them or answer them any more. Mrs. Clapham sat back in her chair with a long sigh. She did not sit forward, this time, sunk upon herself, staring sullenly at the floor. She sat back easily, wearily, closing her tired eyes.... CHAPTER IV And still it was not much more than half-past six.... Mrs. Clapham, lifting her lids at last with the effort of one to whom every inch of her body is insisting that the business of life is distinctly over, could hardly bring herself to believe the face of the little clock. The whole of her world had changed twice since it was half-past six before. It seemed impossible that so much could have happened within the round of a little day; just as it is sometimes incredible that so little should happen in the tale of a lengthy year.