The smile died off Mrs. Byron’s lips and for some minutes she stared unseeingly at the steaming water in the round wooden bowl. So he was at his tricks, the old villain! She had taken the matter lightly as a vagary, a passing fancy: but as the sound of his voice fell upon her ears she experienced a doubt, the first real doubt that she had known. In these tones there was a passion wholly new to her. It shook the wife’s heart with fear, the fear of ultimate irremediable loss; with such fear, that for the moment she went sick and faint and leaned perilously forward in the cone of her trolly. In the linhay, the voices dropped into silence and, when they began again, they were pitched in a more commonplace key. Sabina, sitting by the table, stunned by a late realization of what had happened, heard a well-known step, a pause and the utterance in quick, fierce tones, of some threatening phrase. Upon that, Leadville came quickly into the kitchen. "S’bina," he said and she noticed with a fresh pang that his face wore a warm and eager look, a look of happy anticipation, "I want the money for they veares." The year’s pigs had been made into hams and bacon and Mrs. Byron, discussing the matter with old George, had decided not to buy young animals—veares or slips—until the New Year. She could not understand why Leadville should want to restock the empty sties. What was it to do with him? "Pigs," she said non-committally, "’ull be cheaper after Christmas." "They won’t go down again." "I know they will. You can get good-sized slips after Christmas for less money than you’ll give for veares now." He thrust his hands into empty pockets and tried to think of another way in which he could procure money. How could he take Gray into Stowe if he had none? He wanted to give her pretty things, to spend on her, to impress her: but he could not ask the one woman for money to throw away on the other. "Ah," said he, "but I can go to-day and get them and after Christmas I shan’t be able to." Only then did Mrs. Byron remember the errand upon which Gray was bound, the errand which was taking her into Stowe. She smiled and a tinge of malice crept into her thoughts. "It bain’t often as you’re so keen to do things for us," she said, "and I didn’t know as you’d time to spare." "Iss, I can spend the day in buyin’ they veares for ’ee and welcome." "There’s things as I want more’n veares. Wi’ the wind off the land there’ll be a pretty lot of oreweed in the bay. You might give a hand to that." "I been down and there ’edn’t a bit in." She knew that he had not been farther than the yard that morning. "I don’t say ’no’ to a fair offer," she said, her upper lip lifting a little over the still white and regular teeth. "They turmits want bringin’ in from the Willows Field, else the rabbits will eat’n all."