'I earn my bed and my victuals, Mr. Bower,' was the reply, as the old woman stirred her hissing mess with a fork. 'And a thing to be proud of at your age, ma'am.' From such friendly dialogue, Bower gradually turned the talk to Egremont, of whom he spoke at first as a respected intimate. Observation of his collocutor led him shortly to alter his tone a little. When he had heard that books were already arriving, he remarked: 'That's as much as to say that you'll soon be turned out, Mrs. Butterfield. Well, I call it hard at your age, ma'am. Now if Egremont had acted like a gentleman and had offered _me_ to be librarian, you'd still have kept your place here. I don't want to say disagreeable things, but if ever there was a mean and indecent action, it was when he passed over _me_ and gave the place to a stranger. Why, Mrs. Butterfield, he has to thank _me_ for everything! But for _me_ he'd never have had a soul to hear his lectures. Well, well, it don't matter. And what do you think o' the young girl as is coming to keep house here after you?' Mrs. Butterfield was turning out her supper into the dish. She gave him a peculiar look. 'When's she goin' to be wed?' was her question in reply. 'Next Monday.' 'And does the man as is goin' to marry her know as she comes here to meet this young gent?' 'She comes to meet him? _Does_ she, now? Tut--tut--tut! But we needn't think harm, Mrs. Butterfield--though you can tell from her face she'll need a good deal of looking after. And does she come regular, now?' The old woman confessed that she only knew of two meetings, with a very long interval, but she hinted that the first had taken place under circumstances very suspicious; in fact, that it was obviously an appointment. And this morning, as soon as she knew of Thyrza's presence in the library (by the borrowing of the hammer), she had kept a secret espial through the key-hole of the inner door, with the result that she witnessed the two chatting together in a way sufficiently noteworthy, considering the difference of their stations. The matter having been made to bear all the fruit it would in malevolent discussion, Mr. Bower left the old woman at her supper, and with a candle went to explore the state of the library. He did not remain long, for the big room was very cold, and shortly after rejoining the caretaker he bade her the friendliest good-evening. 'I consider you've done very right to tell me this,' he said, as she went to let him out. 'In _my_ opinion it's something as Grail ought to know. You keep an eye open to-morrow morning; depend upon it, you're doing a good work. I shouldn't wonder if I look in to-morrow night. And I dare say you could do with a nice bit of cheese, eh? I'll see if I can pick a bit out of the shop.'