her mistress, but when she did she stood up to her boldly. Mrs. Fenton
was discomfited and Hannah, snatching the dish Betty handed to her,
vanished to appease the hungry customer, leaving the angry woman to chew
over her wrath as best she might.

Mrs. Fenton gradually cooled down. In half an hour's time the market
would be in full swing and most of her customers would be gone. Though
she was dying to know what had brought her daughter home, the story
would not spoil by keeping. Besides, though she was in a pet with
Dobson, she did not want to give him offence and she tried to make
amends for her angry outburst by bestowing upon him extra graciousness.

Before long Hannah was quite able to attend single-handed to the few
lingerers, and Mrs. Fenton went upstairs, eager to empty her vial of
suppressed temper on "that chit," as she generally called Lavinia.

She entered her own bedroom expecting to find the girl there, but
Lavinia had no fancy for invading her mother's domains and had gone into
the garret where Hannah slept. Dead with fatigue, mentally and bodily,
she had thrown herself dressed as she was on Hannah's bed and in a few
minutes was in a heavy sleep. But before doing so she slipped under the
bolster something she was holding in her left hand. It was the purse
forced upon her by Lancelot Vane.

Mrs. Fenton stood for a minute or so looking at her daughter. She could
not deny that the girl was very pretty, but that prettiness gave her no
satisfaction. She felt instinctively that Lavinia was her rival.

"The baggage is handsomer than I was at her age, and I wasn't a fright
either or the men wouldn't ha' been always dangling after me. With that