"Nay, scarce at all. We was wonderful clever 'bout that. We shifted
an' shifted an' gi'ed 'em all th' slip."

"Don't you go to church on Sundays?"

"Eh dear! I wonder what they'd say if me an' Aunt Nancy an' Uncle Jim
was to go paddlin' in among all the fine folks--wi' bare feet an'
all."

She laughed grimly.

"Will yo' coom yonder for the cockles?" she inquired presently.

John nodded, and, turning, she ran down the hill, fleet as a hare, and
disappeared round its curved base.

John walked homewards thoughtfully, his own troubles quite forgotten
in the consideration of Sally's lot. All that evening, and even during
his work on the following morning, he pondered over it, and it was
with a portentous face that he betook himself at noon to the
trysting-place. So punctual was he that he stood there for some
minutes before a musical cry of "Cockles! fine cockles!" came ringing
down the lane, and presently Sally appeared, the basket poised upon
her head throwing a deep shadow over her face, but the curves of her
figure strongly defined by the brilliant summer sunlight. Halting by
the gate she balanced her basket on the upper bar, and immediately
measured out a quart by way of greeting.

"How much?" inquired business-like John.