"That's all you can tell," said Jerrem.

"Iss, and all you can tell, too," replied Joan; adding, as the frown on
his face betokened rising anger, "There, my dear, you'd best step
inside wi' me and get a drop more o' your mornin's physic, I reckon."

"Physic?" growled Jerrem. "I don't want no physic--leastwise, no more
than I've had from you already."

"Glad to hear it," said Joan. "When you change your mind--which, depend
on it, 'ull be afore long--you'll find me close to hand.--I must make
up a few somethin's for this evenin'," she said, addressing Eve, "in
case any of 'em drops in. Adam's gone off," she added, "I don't know
where, nor he neither till his work's done."

"Might just as well have saved hisself the trouble," growled Jerrem.

"No, now, he mightn't," replied Joan. "There's spurrits enough to wan
place and t'other to float a Injyman in, and the sooner 'tis got the
rids of the better, for 'twill be more by luck than good management if
all they kegs is got away unseen."

"Oh, of course Adam's perfect," sneered Jerrem. Then, catching sight of
Eve's face as he watched Joan go into the kitchen, he added with a
desponding sigh, "I only wish I was; but the world's made for some: I
s'pose the more they have the more they get."

Eve did not answer: perhaps she had not heard, as she was just now
engaged in shifting her position so as to escape the dazzling rays of
the sun, which came pouring down on her head. The movement seemed to