kindling barked-oak twigs under the breakfast kettle. The young children were still above, as was also her father, it being Sunday morning, when he felt justified in lying an additional half-hour.
‘Well!—my dear Tess!’ exclaimed her surprised mother, jumping up and kissing the girl. ‘How be ye? I didn’t see you till you was in upon me! Have you come home to be married?’
‘No, I have not come for that, mother.’
‘Then for a holiday?’
‘Yes—for a holiday; for a long holiday’, said Tess.
‘What, isn’t your cousin going to do the handsome thing?’
‘He’s not my cousin, and he’s not going to marry me.’
Her mother eyed her narrowly.
‘Come, you have not told me all,’ she said.
Then Tess told.
‘And yet th’st not got him to marry ’ee!’ reiterated her mother. ‘Any woman would have done it but you!’
‘Perhaps any woman would except me.’
‘It would have been something like a story to come back with, if you had!’ continued Mrs.
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