ur arm from round me, then; you can tell me without that, I'm
sure," said Jane, shrinking back into the rectory kitchen.

"No, I can't; and how do I know but what perhaps, after I've been loving
you with all my might, and saving up so as we may be married, there
mayn't come a foreign lover, a currier, or something of that sort, and
cut me out?"

"Don't be a fool, John!" exclaimed Jane, "and do adone there. I do
declare--and serve you right, too! Such impudence!"

There was the sound of a smart slap received upon his cheek by John
Gurdon, from the sole of one of the Rector's very broad old slippers, a
weapon held in Jane's hand at the moment; and now she stood arranging
her ruffled plumes, and gazing very defiantly at the red-cheeked
gentleman before her.

"Well, that's pretty, certainly," he said, half in anger. "What are you
doing with that shoe?"

"It's to slap the other side of your face with, if you're saucy," cried
Jane, "now then; and if you're not, it's to give to cook to throw after
the carriage when we go, for luck, you know; and it's bad enough we need
it, I'm sure, for I never saw such a set-out. There's young missus
looking that stony and dreadful and never speaking, it quite frightens
me. I wouldn't care if she would only cry; but she won't. But do tell
me."

"Well, you won't let me," said John Gurdon. "I didn't see it all; but
them two nearly come to a fight, when Miss Lee jumped forward and held
Mr Norton, and master carried her ladyship--you mustn't say `young
missus' now--on to the Rectory. Regular row and confusion, you know. I
do wish they'd be off. All the company's gone; and there's that
beautiful breakfast going a-begging, and all because two people want the
same woman. Just as if there weren't plenty of women in the world ready
to jump at a husband! I never see such fools!"

"Didn't you, Mr Greatgrand?" exclaimed Jane, firing up. "You're a
nasty, unfeeling good-for-nothing--there! You're worse than that Mr
Norton himself, shamming dead all these years on purpose to come back
and break that poor dear angel's heart. There, it's no use; I hate you!
that I do; and if I'm to sit in that rumble with you, hour after hour, I
shall be ill, that I shall, so now. Keep your hands to yourself, for I
have done with you quite. There, go and answer that bell."

Jane flounced out of the kitchen, and John Gurdon, who was at the
Rectory, to help wait at the wedding-breakfast, hurried into t