"Iss?" said Mrs. Tom quietly. "I dunno as Jim’ll be agreeable." "My dear, why don’t you wear the ring that ’e give you?" "I don’t know, I don’t like to. I"—she smiled anxiously, yet with a glimmering of humour—"I don’t believe Uncle Leadville would like to see me wearin’ a ring." Having said so much, Gray was willing to make further admissions. "I feel afraid of Unde Leadville, he’s always after me and his eyes seem to be watching me as if they was coming out of his sockets. I can’t sleep by night, mammy, I—I’m always thinking about him and," she looked shyly away, unable in this moment of revelation to meet her mother’s understanding eye, "I don’t want to, I’m—" her voice sank, "I’m afraid." "’Tis a shame," said Mrs. Tom warmly. She knew how compelling are strength and intensity but thought it wisest not to let her knowledge appear. The susceptibilities of young people are easily ruffled. "I think it’s wicked of him, mammy." She was righteously indignant that he should be making life so difficult, "and auntie is so good to him." "Iss," sighed the matron, "but men’s so, they can’t help theirselves—poor old villains. Why don’t you come ’ome with me for a bit and leave Richbell go down with your auntie?" Gray’s face brightened hopefully, then she shook her head. "I don’t think Aunt S’bina would like it." "Well, I’ll talk to yer auntie about it an’ tell ’er what I think." "Don’t you say nothing about what I’ve told you," cried youth, anxious as to the discretion of gossiping middle-age. "You can trust me," and Gray, looking into the kind shrewd face, felt that she might. "You know she see Uncle Leadville’s tiresome but she don’t think he mean anything." "Poor sawl, no she wouldn’t, of course, bein’ ’is wife. He’ll say one thing to she an’ another thing to you." Gray nodded. That was the way of it. "And she’ll believe what ’e say." "He’d tell her I was making a fuss about nothing. Yes, he would." "There’s Jim comin’ up the road," said Mrs. Tom, who was sitting by the window; "I wonder ’e and Leadville get on." "They don’t see but very little of each other. If I was to be with Jim when Uncle Leadville come, I believe they’d fight; and the fear of that keeps me on pins and needles when I’m with Jim. It’s all horrid." "Well, dearie, I’ll see what I can do with yer auntie. ’Twould be better if you could say as you was engaged to Jim, but I suppose you can’t?" "I daren’t, mammy." Her large eyes, softly black, filled with tears. Courting-time is April weather but Gray felt that more showers than sunshine were falling to her share. "I’m frightened of Uncle Leadville and his old gun. We often say we’ll do things but we don’t after all; I got an idea he would."