"You could throw him across the river," said Joe Tapson. There came a knock at the door while breakfast progressed, and a girl appeared. She was a wild-looking, rough-haired little thing of sixteen. She entered with great self-possession, took off her sunbonnet, shook her black hair out of her eyes, and set down a large round bundle in a red handkerchief. The men laughed; Miss Prout's voice rose to its highest cadences, and her thin shape swayed with indignation. "Again, Susan! Twice in two months. 'Tis beyond belief, and a disgrace to the family!" "Well, Aunt Tab, who wouldn't? Last night Aunt Hepsy didn't give me no supper, because I dropped the salt-cellar in the apple-tart--a thing anybody might do. And I'm leery as a hawk, so I am." "There's no patience in you," grumbled Mr. Prout's sister. "Why for can't you understand the nature of your Aunt Hepsy, and make due allowances for it? Such a trollop as you--such a fuzzy-poll, down-at-heels maid--be the very one to drive her daft. 'Twas a Christian act to take you--friendless orphan that you be; but as to service--how you think you'll ever rise to it, I can't say." Susan's uncle had given her some breakfast, and she ate heartily, and showed herself quite at home. "Aunt Hepsy's always a bit kinder after I've runned away, however," exclaimed the girl; "that is, after she've told me what she thinks about me." Daniel Brendon observed Susan closely, for she sat on a kitchen form beside him at Mr. Prout's right hand. A neat little budding shape she had, and small brown hands, like a monkey's. Presently she looked up at him inquiringly. "This here's Mr. Brendon," explained Agg. Then he turned to Daniel. "The maiden be Mr. Prout's niece, you must know. She's with the family of Weekes to Lydford, learning to get clever for sarvice. But she'm always running away--ban't you, Susan? Here's the mustard to your bacon, my dear." "I run away when I'm that pushed," explained Susan, with her mouth full. "'Tis a lesson to 'em. I wouldn't run from Uncle Weekes, for a kinder man never lives; but Aunt Hepsy's different." "For that matter, I dare say Phil Weekes would be jolly glad to run along with you sometimes, if he could," said Tapson. But the remark annoyed Miss Prout, and she reproved him sharply. "You'll do better to mind your own affairs, Joe. Ban't no business of yours to talk rude about other people's families; an' I'll thank you not to do so. No man ever had a better wife than Philip Weekes have got; which I say, though she is my own flesh and blood; and 'tis a very improper thing all you men siding with this here silly little toad; and you ought to stop it, John, as well you know." "So I ought," admitted Mr. Prout. "Now, up an' away. And, after dinner, I be going into Lydford, so you can come back along wi' me, Susan." "Let me bide one day," pleaded the girl. "Then I can help Aunt Tab wi' the washing."