“P’r’aps not,” assented the other, considering. “All the same it bain’t much use ’avin’ a man if ’e bain’t niver at ’ome. Maybe your ’usbin’ don’t care for company.”
“I’d catch im carin’ for any company but mine when I wanted his’n,” declared Mrs. Hewson defiantly. “But I bain’t one to care for a man allers draggin’ about—they be more in the way than hanythink. I can’t niver find two words to say to Bill when once I’ve giv’ ’im ’is cup o’ tea or whativer it might be. It be more nor I can make out ’ow women can bide men plaguin’ round ’em from mornin’ till night. Bill be too stay-at-’ome by ’alf—though, to be sure, I do let ’im ’ave it if ’e come ’ome late o’ nights, that be certain,” she added, laughing.
The other woman stared at her a minute, speechless and wondering; then she sighed.
“Well, I niver!” ejaculated she. “Pore feller!” and the thought flew through her mind that she would not have treated him so.
“Pore feller indeed!” cried Mrs. Hewson indignantly. “Why, bain’t ’e dead sot on me, and wouldn’t ’e rayther ’ave my tongue any day than another gal’s palavers? What else should ’e be so stay-at-’ome for, I’d like to know? Pore feller! What next?”
She settled her hat on her head with a quick, irritated movement, but the next minute she laughed again.
“But belike you fancy a man allers a-dancin’ round you,” laughed she. “Some gals do. I can swop a buss now and then as well as most, but I like to get it over o’ proper times.”
Milly blushed, and shifted the baby to the other arm.
“I thought as iverybody liked their man to get time to admire ’em a bit,” said she shyly.
“Is that what ye be after?” laughed Martha. “Lord, I wouldn’t give much for Bill’s taste. ’E don’t know black from blue.”
“’E ’ave ’ad the taste ye wanted ’im to ’ave, I s’pose,” retorted the little woman—“’e ’ave ’ad the taste to fancy you!”
Her delicate face flushed, and there was just a tinge of spite in her tone, for could she not remember the day when Mr. Hewson’s taste had not been for dark, powerful girls?
“Oh, yes, ’e ’ave ’ad _that_,” assented the other in an off-hand way. "He knowed I were the only one as could ha’ made hanythink of ’im. If ’e ’ad ha’ married a pore gumptionless soul like some"—and Martha looked out of the corner of the eye at her hostess—“’e wouldn’t ha’ been nowhere! ’E needs a good strong, smart gal, ’e do, pore soul! Ye wouldn’t b’lieve the time I be seein’ to ’im—as good as gold, but a pore shiftless crittur! If it weren’t for me, we wouldn’t ’ave bite nor sup to put in our mouths. I be forced to put spunk into _’im_ same time as I work for the lot.”