§17

She raised Socknersh's wages to twenty shillings the next day, and it
was not due to any wordy flow of his gratitude that the name of Martha
Tilden was not mentioned between them. "Better leave it," thought Joanna
to herself, "after all, I'm not sure--and she's a slut. I'd sooner he
married a cleaner, steadier sort of gal."

Grace Wickens had already departed, her cocoa-making tendencies having
lately passed into mania--and her successor was an older woman, a widow,
who had fallen on evil days. She was a woman of few words, and Joanna
wondered a little when one afternoon she said to her rather anxiously:
"I'd lik to speak to you, ma'am--in private, if you please."

They went into the larder and Mrs. Tolhurst began:

"I hardly lik to say it to you, Miss Joanna, being a single
spinster ..."

This was a bad beginning, for Joanna flamed at once at the implication
that her spinsterhood put her at any disadvantage as a woman of the
world.

"Don't talk nonsense, Mrs. Tolhurst; I may be unwed as yet, but I'm none
of your Misses."

"No, ma'am--well, it's about this Martha Tilden--"

Joanna started.