t the shop, when she wanted to buy those cottages
in Potter's Row--and there was Sam Field the higgler--both of them would
have borrowed from him if Saunders hadn't cooled them off. Saunders said
it was a Jew's interest he was asking--because there was security--but
he wasn't going to accept a farthing less than his shilling a pound for
three months--not he! So they might take it or leave it. And Mrs.
Moulsey got hers from the Building Society, and Sam Field made shift to
go without. And John Bolderfield was three pounds poorer that quarter
than he need have been--all along of Saunders. And now Saunders was
talking 'agen him' like this--blast him!

'Oh, an then he went on'--pursued Bessie with gusto--'about your bein
too ignorant to put it in the post-office. 'Ee said you'd think Edwards
would go an spend it' (Edwards was the postmaster), 'an then he laughed
fit to split 'imself. Yer couldn't see more nor the length of your own
nose he said--it was edication _you_ wanted. As for 'im, 'ee said, 'ee'd
have kep it for you if you'd asked him, but you'd been like a bear with
a sore 'ead, 'ee said ever since Mrs. Moulsey's affair--so 'ee didn't
suppose you would.'

'Well, 'ee's about right there,' said John, grimly; ''ee's talkin sense
for onst when 'ee says that. I'd dig a hole in the hill and bury it
sooner nor I'd trust it to 'im--I would, by--' he swore vigorously. 'A
thieving set of magpies is all them Saunders--cadgin 'ere and cadgin
there.'

He spoke with fierce contempt, the tacit hatred of years leaping to
sight. Bessie's bright brown eyes looked at him with sympathy.

'It was just his nassty spite,' she said. 'He knew '_ee_ could never ha
done it--not what you've done--out o' your wages. Not unless 'ee got
Sally to tie 'im to the dresser with ropes so as 'ee couldn't go a-near
the "Spotted Deer" no more!'

She laughed like a merry child at her own witticism, and John relished
it too, though he was not in a laughing mood.

'Why'--continued Bessie with enthusiasm, 'it was Muster Drew as said to
me the other afternoon, as we was walkin 'ome from the churchyard, says
'ee, "Mrs. Costrell, I call it splendid what John's done--I _do_," 'ee
says. "A labourer on fifteen shillins a week--why it's an example to the
country," 'ee says. "'Ee ought to be showed."'

John's face relaxed. The temper and obstinacy in the eyes began to yield
to the weak complacency which was their more normal expression.

There was silence fo