"Mrs. Lear," she said urgently, "I don't mean any wickedness, but indeed
I can't sufficiently tell 'ee what it means to me to get my length of
riband and dance in the Flora come May. I do believe I'll die if I
don't. I don't know how to find words to tell 'ee, but 'tes more to me
than a white riband and a shaking of feet down Bugletown streets, 'tes
my life, I do believe ..." She added no word of Flora Le Pettit, you
perceive, but got a secret joy from being able to use her name thus
unreproved in mention of the dance ... and who that has been a lover
will not understand this?

"I would have had 'ee up here to help now that Primrose is so wisht,"
replied Mrs. Lear doubtfully, "but simmingly only yesterday you had
words, and indeed it was ill done of you, Loveday Strick, towards one
in her condition, as you do very well knaw."

Loveday drooped her head. Idle to protest to Mrs. Lear that she had not
been the first in fault. She waited breathless, the beating of her heart
almost choking her. Mrs. Lear went on.

"If only Primrose could be made to overlook it, then I'll have 'ee and
welcome, Loveday, and pay you a florin a week too, which would soon add
up to enough. I'd be glad for 'ee to stay on after the Flora too, for
Primrose's time'll be near."

Loveday had no interest in what happened after the dance. Life would
be all golden ever after, something wonderful and new would certainly
begin; it was to mark the great division in her life, but gratitude and
the caution born of years of slights held her silent on that subject to
the good Mrs. Lear.