in a kind o' way. An' your father's
jist as hard; he's on'y quieter with it, that's all They'll niver
consent Niver, i' this world.'

'Then we must do without their consent, that's all. I must see Julia
to-night, and you must help me. Tell her that I am here and must see
her. Oh, Aunt Jenny, you are surely not going to desert us now, after
helping us so often.'

'I'm dub'ous, my dear. I hope good may come of it, but I'm dub'ous. I'm
doubtful if I did right in helping you, again your father's will, an'
Mr. Mountain's, too.'

'You won't refuse to do so little, after doing so much,' pleaded the
young man. 'Why, it was at your house that I used to meet her, when we
were children together, and you first christened us Romeo and Juliet.'

'A name o' bad omen, my dear. I wish I hadn't gi'en it to you now.'

'For niver was a story o' more woe, Than this o' Jewliet an' her Romeo.'

'I don't believe much in omens,' said Dick. 'But you will tell Julia
that I am here, won't you? It's the last time, for ever so long.'

'I'll tell her,' said Mrs. Rusker. 'But don't stay here; goo down to the
Five Ash. Mr. Mountain's gone to Burmungem, an' he'll come across this
way when he comes back. You must tek a bit o' care, Dick, for the gell's
sake.'

'I'll take care, dear. It's good-bye this time, Aunt. You've been very
good to me always, and I shan't forget your kindness while I'm away. And
you'll be good to Julia, too, while--while I'm away, won't you?'

Mrs. Rusker's objections had never had any heart in them, and had been
merely perfunctory, and such as she conceived her age and semi-maternal
authority compelled her to make. She was wholly given over to Dick and
Julia, and all her simple craft was for their service. She kissed him,
and cried over him, and so they parted, he bound for the Five Ash field,
and she for the farmhouse.

'Why, lacsaday, Jenny, whativer is the matter?' asked Mrs. Mountain,
when her visitor entered her sitting-room, and gave her tear-stained
cheek to her old friend's embrace. Julia, a lithe, graceful girl, rose
at the query from the other side of the little table, and came to Mrs.
Rusker's side.

'Why, you're cryin',' continued the elder woman. 'What is it, my dear,
as has upset you i' this wise?'

'Well, my dear,' said Mrs. Rusker, wiping her eyes and smoothing her
dress, as if her grief was done with and put away, 'it ain't a trouble
as I expects sympathy from you in.'

Mother and daughter exchange