And in this mood his thoughts turned to Martha Thorpe; he scarce knew why, except, perhaps, that he was used to the sight of her Sunday after Sunday, and at the weekly services and social functions of the chapel and Sunday school. All the world knew that Martha would have money, but none the less did all the world--of Holmfirth--gape and exclaim with its "Did yo' evver?" and its "Aw nivver did," when the reserved master of Wilberlee was seen, not once or twice, but, in time, Sunday after Sunday, pacing slowly by Martha and Old Split's side from the chapel gates to the modest home above the shop in Victoria Street. But when it become known that Jabez Tinker actually took his roast beef, and Yorkshire pudding, and apple pie (with cheese) at Splits, the spinsterdom of the village was divided between wrath and scorn. "Such a letting down to th' Tinkers," declared one. "I'll never believe it till I see it," affirmed another. "It's money he's after," a third alleged. "He's enough o' his own." "There's no telling. Happen he's speculated. Besides, much will have more, an' Tinkers wer' allus rare 'uns for th' main chance," was the general conclusion. "All but poor Dick," said his old cronies of the _Rose and Crown_. "By gosh! But Ginger o' Split's 'ud be a pill as 'ud bide some gilding for my taste," vowed the jolly landlord. "Jabez mun ha' a good stomach." And what thought Martha? It was inconceivable to her at first that the visits of Mr. Tinker, of Wilberlee, could be anything but visits of business to her father; doubtless some matter connected with the Chapel or the Sunday School. But Ephraim dropped hints. "How would ta like to be wed, lass? "Father!" "Aye, it's father now. It 'll be happen gran'father afore long," and the old man chuckled a greasy chuckle.