"I noticed," said Mrs. Colley, "I noticed Mrs. Hanson as——"
"So did I!" said Mrs. Hanson, "Abram Lestwick were not in Church, I noticed it tu."
"’Tis his own business and ’tis not yours nor mine."
Mrs. Colley bridled. "I du notice a great change in Abram, and if what I du hear be half true, that maid of yours hev played Abram a bad trick, leaving him in the lurk like and going and getting sarvice in the big house."
"I will thank ’ee, Mrs. Colley, not to interfere wi’ me and my affairs. My grand-darter had her own rights to get any place as she did chose, and whoever hev been saying ill things o’ she—I would hev took it friendly and neighbourly, seeing me and you went to school together as young things, I—I say I would hev took it neighbourly and friendly if you had up and spoke for the maid."
"And how did ’ee know as I didn’t?" demanded Mrs. Colley shrilly.
"Because I du know your tongue, Ann Colley and knowed it of old I du, and it’s a tongue as would sooner speak ill things of your neighbours than good things and—and I wish ’ee good marning, Mrs. Colley, and my bes’ respects to ’ee!" And shaking her old umbrella, Mrs. Hanson marched on, a tall gaunt figure of a woman.
It had worried her too, that Abram was not in Church, she disliked changes; she had come to look for Abram in his place every pleasant Sunday morning, and every unpleasant one too for the matter of that. But fine or dirty the weather, Abram had never failed till to-day.
"There be something wrong," Mrs. Hanson thought. "I mislike it, Abram not being in his place, I missed his voice in that ’ymn which we did have to-day and which he was always partial to."
Not for days had she spoken to Abram. He passed the cottage regularly, he touched his hat politely when he saw Mrs. Hanson, for he was a polite man. But he had never crossed the threshold since Betty had got her place in the big house.
But Mrs. Hanson had heard things from others than Ann Colley. She had heard how Abram patiently and stolidly spent two hours every night staring at the arched green doorway in the wall of Homewood, through which doorway he knew must come Betty sooner or later.
Mrs. Hanson sat down to her Sunday dinner, it was a frugal meal of cold boiled bacon, a cold potato and a piece of bread. Mrs. Hanson was a strict Sabbatarian. Many and many a time when Betty had dared to remonstrate about the Sunday fare, Mrs. Hanson had said to her.