added, as
her eye fell on her brother, "do go and take off that horrid gaberdine
and them boots. You look for all the world like Ben Pinhorn, there
ain't a pin to choose between you."

"You oughtn't to speak so sharp," said her mother, as Peter slouched out
of the room. "I know what it is to feel spent like that after a day's
work. You just come in and fling down where you are and as you are,
boots or no boots."

As she spoke the rattle of wheels was heard outside, and then the click
of a gate.

"There now!" she exclaimed, starting up; "there _is_ yer father. Back
already, and a fine taking he'll be in to see all this muss about and no
tea ready. He's short enough always when he's bin to market, without
anything extry to vex him." She swept Bella's scraps, patterns, and
books unceremoniously into a heap, and directly afterwards the tramp of
heavy feet sounded in the passage, and the farmer entered. His first
glance as he threw himself on the settle was at the table, where Bella
was hurriedly clearing away her confused mass of working materials.

"Be off with all that rubbish and let's have tea," he said crossly.
"Why can't it be ready when I come in?"

"You're a bit earlier than usual, Richard," said his wife; "but you'll
have it in no time now. The kettle's on the boil."

She made anxious signs to Bella to quicken her movements, for she saw
that the farmer was in a bad humour. Things had not gone well at
market.

"And what did you see at Lenham?" she asked, as she began to put the
cups and saucers on the table.

"Nawthing," answered Mr Greenways, staring at the fire.

"What did you hear then?" persisted his wife.

"Nawthing," was the answer again.

Mother and daughter exchanged meaning looks. The farmer jerked his head
impatiently round.

"What I want to see is summat to eat, and what I want to hear is no more
questions till I've got it. So there!"

He thrust out his legs, pushed his hands deep down in his pockets, and
with his chin sunk on his breast sat there a picture of moody
discontent.

After a good deal of clatter and bustle, and calls for Molly, the tea
was ready at last--a substantial meal, but somewhat untidily served--and
Peter, having changed the offensive gaberdine for a shiny black cloth
coat, having joined them, the party sat down. It was a very silent one,
for no one dared to address another remark to the farmer until he had
satisfied his appetite, which took some time.