"Did I? Well, I bear ye no malice. Go slow, and overlook offences--
that's William Wright's way, and I've no pride, so I gets it in the
end. Now some men, after being treated like that, would have sat
down and wrote a letter to your father about your goings-on.
I thought of it. Says I, 'It don't take more than a line from me,
and the fat's in the fire.' Mind, I don't say that I won't, but I
ha'n't done it yet. And look here--I'm a journeyman, as you know,
and on the tramp for jobs. I push on for Lincoln this afternoon; and
what I say to you before leaving is this--you're a lady, every inch.
Don't you go and make yourself too cheap with that fella. He's a
pretty man enough, but there ain't no honesty in him."

He was gone. Hetty drew a long breath. Then, having waited while
the ladder too was withdrawn, she fetched back the children and set
them before their copy-books.

"_Honesty is the best policy_."--She saw Master George fairly started
on this text, with his head on one side and his tongue working in the
corner of his mouth; and drawing out paper and ink began to write a
letter home.

"Dear Mother--," she wrote, glanced at George's copy-book, then at
the window. Five minutes passed. She started and thrust pen and
paper back into the drawer. Patty must write.



CHAPTER IV.