Mrs. Tom took from behind the door a purple knitted bonnet and a cloak. The evenings were dark and the wind from the sea cold. She did not stay to take off her apron but went as she was, in her dark gown and with her kind face bright between the flaps of the woollen bonnet. Sabina, lonely, because the husband who should have been sitting opposite to her at the end of the day was gone out, gave her a warmer greeting than was her wont. She was tired and the peace and good-fellowship to which she was looking forward seemed long in coming. She, also, would be glad of a chat. *CHAPTER VI* "She’ve a whisht ’eart, poor Gray ’as," said the mother in deprecation of Mrs. Byron’s stout advice that the maid should wear her ring openly and tell Leadville to go hang. "Whatever is she ’fraid of?" "Oh, I dunno, maids is like that sometimes." "She needn’t be afraid of Leadville, ’e ’edn’t goin’ do nothing." "I don’t say ’e ’av so far," was the cautious reply. The wife laughed. "You don’t think I’ve lived with’n all these years an’ don’t know ’e’s all blow?" But Mrs. Tom knew just how much justification there was for Gray’s alarm. "Well, you know, Gray’s easily frightened," she said thoughtfully. "I don’t believe she’d come down the lane at night for all the gold in Tregols." "Well, I never. Whatever is there to be afraid of?" "You know she ’ad a bit of a shock one night." "She didn’t say a word about it to me, then." "Well no, I s’pose she didn’t like to." "Whatever was it, then?" "I don’t think she ’ud like for me to say anything about it." Mrs. Tom had successfully aroused her friend’s curiosity and Sabina clapped her arm impatiently. "I’m sure Gray wouldn’t mind you tellin’ me of’t." "No, p’raps she wouldn’t, still ’tis a awkward thing to say to ’ee." "Never mind for that. I reckon I can listen to what you can say." "Well, my dear." Mrs. Tom hitched her chair nearer to the trolly and lowered her voice. "Jim ’ad gone over to Treketh to see his mother and the maid was to home and she wouldn’t leave ’er father see ’er back ’ere, said she’d be all right by ’erself. An’ as she was comin’ along, something rustled in the ’edge. ’Twas one of they dark nights and she couldn’t see, but she thought ’twas a bullock." "Iss?" Sabina’s mind, by now ready for it, leaped to the natural conclusion. Leadville was trying to meet Gray on the quiet. "And some one springed out and catched ’old of er and just about pulled the clothes off ’er back, they did," was Mrs. Tom’s startling end to the story. "My dear life! You don’t mean to say so?" This was worse than she had feared; presented her, indeed, with a new and surprising view of her husband. "I dunno ’owever she got away from ’im." "Isolda!" and the fixed colour of her cheeks was a dull red patch on the pallor, "you don’t mean to say that ’twas really ’im? You can’t mean ’twas?" "Oh, my dear, don’t ’e ask me."