Little Henwood, however, when the matter of the legs was explained to him, behaved with propriety; showing only a calm satisfaction that the coffin he was about to make, should be of the usual length and shape. He said nothing that could bring a blush to spinster cheeks—if Mrs. Bate who, in spite of the matronly title, had never been married, could be called a spinster—but demeaned himself with a practical common sense which won him some tolerable opinions. "The coffin will be ’ere to-morrow early, I’ll bring it meself and put ’er in." "’E knaw ’is business, that one do," said Mrs. Tom, as she watched him drive off behind the surprised-looking horse. "Got a good ’ead on his shoulders." Mrs. William Brenton, however, happened to be his wife’s cousin. She sniffed disparagingly. "Proper l’il tubby. When Sandra was ill, ’e was such a glutton ’e drinked up all the brandy that Passon sent down for ’er ’e did." "Iss," said her sister-in-law who if not ’gifted wi’ good looks’ was easy-natured, "but ’twas because she said she wouldn’t drink that ’ell-brew, not even to please the Passon. She’s get better wi’out it. Iss and from that time she started to cheat the craws." "Undertakin’," said Aunt Louisa, "is a drinkin’ job. Never seem to got enough work to full up a man’s time and what can ’ee expect?" "Expect?" cried Mrs. Brenton virtuously. "I expect for’m to ’av self-respect and not make pigs of theirself." "Then, my dear, you expect more’n you’ll get. We do all knaw what men is. If they bain’t out drinkin’ they’re out courtin’ somebody’s li’l maid." She began to fold the dress she had been altering and, as she did so, looked towards Mrs. Tom. "Well, now, I’ve done that. Is there anything else I can do?" "No, I think you’ve done enough to-night." The mistress of the ceremonies knew better than to over-tax her assistants. "But I hope you’ll try and come to-morrow as there’s a good bit more to do yet." With a glance she included the other occupants of the room. "Oh, my dear, I bain’t goin’ to leave ’ee till it’s all finished now, what next?" said Aunt Louisa, taking the pins from the crumples of her old lips. "I was goin’ to Mrs. Martyn because she got two children now where she only expected one, but she must wait. I’m sure she won’t mind." "Iss, my dear," murmured Mrs. Bate, "livin’ can wait, but the dead must be tended to."