important as a town afire."

"Well, I'm going to start along," the old woman decided, getting on
her feet; "or else someone 'll be driving by and seeing us."

Jan, too, stood up.

"We may so well make our congees here," she went on, "as under the
porter's nose."

An awkward silence fell between them for a minute, and these two old
creatures, who for more than fifty years had felt no constraint in
each other's presence, now looked into each other's eyes with a
fearful diffidence. Jan cleared his throat, much as if he had to make
a public speech.

"Maria," he began in an unnatural voice, "we're bound for to part, and
I can trewly swear, on leaving ye, that--"

"--that for two-score year and twelve It's never entered your head to
consider whether I've made 'ee a good wife or a bad. Kiss me, my old
man; for I tell 'ee I wouldn' ha' wished it other. An' thank 'ee for
trying to make that speech. What did it feel like?"

"Why, 't rather reminded me o' the time when I offered 'ee marriage."

"It reminded me o' that, too. Com'st along."

They tottered down the hill towards the Workhouse gate. When they were
but ten yards from it, however, they heard the sound of wheels on