by L. T. Meade
what's called particular," said Mrs Jones.
"No honey, I thank you, Miss Hatton--but I likes my tea to lay for agood eight or ten minutes arter it is made. I will own that I likes itbitter; flavoured with one spoonful of thick rich cream and three goodlumps of castor sugar. Jones goes in for four lumps, but I say so muchsugar is apt to lay heavy, so three's my quantity. I'll trouble you notto give me more than one teaspoonful of cream, Mrs Royal."
"Sech strong tea is wonderful bad for the narves," said Miss Hatton."May I ask, miss," turning to Jill, "'ow you takes it in the City? I'mtold, but I don't know ef it's true, that you mostly uses our tea-leavesover agen."
"I don't think it's true," replied Jill, "though maybe there air somefolks poor enough even for that." She raised her great dark eyes as shespoke, and looked sadly at Miss Hatton.
The spinster turned away with a toss of her head. "Why, she's foreign,"she muttered. "It's worse even than I feared."
"I have no doubt, miss, whatever, that _you_ always drinks the best o'tea," said Hibberty Jones with a gallant bow. "So purty a bit of ayoung gel couldn't but have the werry best."
"Quite so--I agrees with you, Mr Jones," said Mr Peters.
The women could not forbear snorting audibly, and Miss Hatton in heragitation dropped a spoonful of honey on the white cloth, and the nextmoment one of the delicate white saucers with the convolvulus lyingacross its smooth surface had been pushed by her awkward elbow on to thefloor. It lay there in shivers. Aunt Hannah gave an unearthly groan,and Silas felt the purple colour of rage dyeing his face.
"Don't say a word, Silas," said Jill in a soft tone.
She sprang lightly to her feet, ran round to Miss Hatton's side, pickedup the broken crockery, which she put out of sight, placed anothersaucer beside Miss Hatton's plate, and returned to her place by Silas.
Her little action was so swift and graceful, and the lovely colour whichmantled her cheeks was so becoming, that the three men could not helpexpressing their approval by a low sort of underground cheer.
"You have a kind heart, I see, my lass," said old Peters; "a kind heartas well as a purty face. I never knew 'em go together afore. I dividedthe world o' women afore into two lots. There was the illigantfaymales, with their fine faces, and their fine walk, and their finebits o' ways; and there was the plain, downright women, like my oldmissis, wot died, and like our good friend, Mrs Hibberty Jones" (MrsHibberty Jones turned white with suppressed anger at this markedallusion to her present appearance), "and like Miss Hatton," continuedPeters, "sterling bodies both o' them, but awk'ard outside. _We_ mustown as plain women is awk'ard outside. Well, I thought as the plain'uns were the good 'uns, and the purty 'uns the bad 'uns. Never thoughtas they'd get mixed; never did, never. But the ways of the Lord arewonderful, and I can't but b'lieve that there's a purty nature insidethat bonny face o' yourn, my gel."
Jill received old Mr Peters's rather embarrassing compliments with acalm indifference that greatly amazed the three other women present.
"I don't think nobody ought to think o' looks one way or t'other," shesaid, after a pause. "We're as we're made--it's the inside as iseverything. I never know'd kind, rich, grand sort of folks like thesehere afore. I wor brought up rough, although I don't like roughness;and some o' the people I has met were real ugly in feature, but oh, the'earts in 'em--the kindness o' 'em--the beautiful look as love had putin their eyes. I don't think the looks matters at all, it's the 'eartsas is everything."
Jill looked so sweet when she said this that even the angry women wereappeased, and Miss Hatton, suddenly moving her chair, made room for Jillto sit opposite the honey.
"You come nigh to me," she said; "I own as I'm awk'ard, and I'm sorry Ibroke a bit of your chaney."
"Go and set near her, Jill," whispered Silas; "your winnin' of 'em all,my little cuttin'; I knew as yer would."
"Jill," said Aunt Hannah, "I 'ope as you're a gel as is willin' to hactup to your own words. I will say as you looks well-meaning. It worn'tyour fault as you were made handsome--it's a trial, I will own; but youmust try and take it patient. But what I wants to know is this--'aveyou or 'ave you not got a light hand with chaney? Chaney is moredelicate nor a woman; it has, so to speak, no constitootion. Anyminute, by a rough knock or a push, or the awkardness jest now shown byMary Ann Hatton, and there--it'll go, shivered. The gel what can managechaney has something to be proud on. When I was married I got atea-sarvice of white chaney with a gold rim, and a scalloped edge roundthe saucer. It wor werry neat, but not a patch on this, for this blueconvolvuly is too cunnin' for anything. Well, when you come to see me,Jill, I'll show you my chaney, every piece complete, not a crack in it,nor a chip; all the little cups, and the scalloped saucers and theplates, jest as I got 'em when I wor married. Why wor this? I'll tellyou why. I put 'em in a glass cupboard, and I never used 'em 'cept atchristenings. Ef you keep this chaney for christenings why it'll last,Jill, but ef you uses it every day, it stands to reason as theconstitootions of these cups and saucers'll give way. I ask yer now, inthe presence of yer future husband, Mr Peters, Mr Hibberty Jones, thegood wife of the latter, and Miss Mary Ann Hatton, what is yerintentions with regard to this beautiful chaney?"
"How can she tell jest now, Aunt Hannah?" said Silas.
"In the matter of wedding the gel I leave everything to you, Silas,"remarked his aunt, "but in the cause of the chaney I must speak my mind.Consider this question, my gel, and hanswer me true."
There was a dead pause when Aunt Hannah came to the end of her oration.The other women, and even the men, looked at Jill with some smallanxiety. She was quite silent for a moment, looking down at thedelicate little cup and saucer which stood by her plate.
"I think," she said, after a minute's silence, "that we might have alittle cupboard made for this yere chaney, Silas. The cupboard couldface the door and the two windows, and when the sun come in it 'ud shineon the cups and saucers and make 'em look real fine, and when AuntHannah came to see us we could use the chaney. I has got some cups andsaucers at home as 'ud do for you and me every day, Silas."
"My gel," said Aunt Hannah, "come here and kiss me. Silas, I withdrawall my hopposition to yer wedding this gel; the Lord has seen fit togive her a mind to match her face. She spoke now with rare wisdom, andmy own three delf cups as I spoke on to yer last week, I'll give to thisgel as a wedding present."
CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
The tea-drinking having turned out such a success, Silas went down tothe village to spend the night with old Peters in a state of rareexultation.
"I wor right, yer see," he said. "I know'd what I were about when Iasked that yere little cutting to come and strike root in my garden."
"She's a werry purty creter," said old Peters. "I don't go for to denyit, Silas, she's rare and purty. But what ails her, man? Do yer thinkas she has given yer her young affection; you ain't so young, Silas, andyou ain't to say 'ansome; do yer think that gracious, purty girl givesback love for your love, Silas?"
Silas felt as if a dash of ice-cold water had been thrown over his warm,glowing, happy heart.
"What can a gel do more nor say `yes?'" he remarked after a pause.
"I'm not so sure on that," replied Peters. "Gels say `yes' for lots o'motives--the wish for a home, maybe; oh, lots o' motives. I'd have saidthat a young thing like Jill 'ud choose for her mate a lad with goodlooks hisself, and youth; that's what I'd have said from my experienceof the faymale 'eart; but there, Silas, don't take on, man, I wor wrongabout beauty and goodness goin' together, so maybe I'm wrong 'bout thet'other also. I can see that the gel has a great kindness for yer,Silas; but love, that's quite another matter. What ails her eyes forinstance? what's back o' them looking out at us all so gloomy-like? Myword, them eyes haunts me; seems as ef a sperit was looking through 'em,werry patient, werry sad. I could cry when I thinks on 'em. What's thematter, Silas? What ails yer, man?"
"You don't s'pose as talk like yourn is pleasant to listen to," repliedSilas; "and you're all
wrong 'bout Jill not wanting to have me. Why,I'll prove it to yer now as yer wrong. I asked her to be my wife onemorning at the market, and I suppose she felt skir't like, for shelooked at me with her face as rosy as the day,
