"Dear, to be sure, think o' that now!" cackled Betty. "I hope ye like _that_, Mr. Keynes."
Mr. Keynes evidently did not like it at all, if one might judge from his expression, but Jenny now turned towards him in artless appeal.
"You do know very well, Sam, don't you, as poor Abel was my first love? I've often told 'ee so, haven't I? You must remember, Sam, I did say often and often, as 'whatever happens you can only be my second. Don't ever think,' says I, 'as you can ever be to me what he was.'"
At this point Sam's feelings were too many for him; he made a stride towards his charmer, and imperatively announced that he'd be dalled if he'd stand any more o' that. "Cut it shart, Jenny, cut it shart, or I'm off!"
"There, I did ought to think more o' your feelin's," said Jenny, drying her eyes with surprising promptitude. "I beg your pardon--I were that undone, ye see, wi' lookin' round at all my poor Abel's things, what's to be mine now. They do all seem to speak so plain to I--the very clock--"
"The clock!" exclaimed Susan, with an indignant start, "why that there clock have hung over chimney-piece for nigh upon farty year! That clock didn't belong to Abel!"
"That clock," said Jenny with mild firmness, "did belong to my poor Abel's father, and 'twas his by rights; he've a-left it to me wi' the rest of his things, and I shall value it for his sake. When I do hear it tickin' it will seem to say to I, _Think o'--me; think o'--me_."
"Jenny, drop it," cried Mr. Keynes with a muffled roar of protest; "I tell 'ee 'tis more nor flesh and blood can bear. If you be a-goin' to think constant o' he you'd better ha' done wi' I."
"Sam, dear Sam," said Jenny in melting tones, "you be all as I've a-got left now; don't you desert me."
"Well, don't you go a-carryin' on that way," said Sam, still unmollified and eyeing her threateningly.
"You don't lay a finger on the clock," said Susan Vacher with spirit. "Who told you that clock was Abel's? It's a-been there ever since my mother's time, and I've a-wound it up myself every Saturday night."
"That clock belonged to Abel," repeated Jenny emphatically, "and he've a-left it to me in his will."
She drew a piece of paper from her pocket, opened it slowly, and proceeded to read its contents aloud, with great dignity.