make, but he still struggled to carry out his plans.

"But, Polly, oi should na loike to see thee marry here, and thy
mother would never ha' loiked it, and thou wilt no chance of seeing
other men here."

"Why, I am only sixteen, feyther, and we need not talk of my
marriage for years and years yet, and I promise you I shan't think
of marrying in Varley when the time comes; but there is one thing
I should like, and that is to spend Sundays, say once a fortnight,
down with Mrs. Mason; they were so quiet and still there, and I did
like so much going to the church; and I hate that Little Bethel,
especially since that horrible man came there; he is a disgrace,
feyther, and you will see that mischief will come out of his talk."

"Oi don't like him myself, Polly, and maybe me and the boys will
sometoimes come down to the church thou art so fond of. However, if
thou wilt agree to go down every Sunday to Mrs. Mason, thou shalt
stay here for a bit till oi see what can best be done."

And so it was settled, and Polly went off every Sunday morning,
and Luke went down of an evening to fetch her back.

"Well, what is't, lass?" he asked as he joined her outside the
"Brown Cow."

"George has scalded his leg badly, feyther. I was just putting Susan
to bed, and he took the kettle off the fire to pour some water in
the teapot, when Dick pushed him, or something, and the boiling
water went over his leg."