of scalding
water on one side of her and a pail of cold on the other, her ample
knees spread apart for balance as she sat on a low chair, her bulky and
capable hands moved with decision and practice about her work. She
looked up as Anne appeared in the doorway, but her hands did not cease
working.

"It's not often we have to do this," she said, "but they sent down word
that there was no milk wanted yesterday, so we had to set to."

"It looks nice butter," said Anne, with the judgment of a connoisseur.

"_You_ ought to know what good butter is," returned Mrs Hankworth. "I've
just been having a laugh over that Peter Molesworth. He wrote on his
account, "17 pints." Did you ever hear such a thing! It took me quite a
long time to know what 17 pints was. Him and his 17 pints!"

"He's not very clever, Peter," said Anne, "but I don't know what his
poor mother would do without him."

"No," returned Mrs Hankworth, "he's hard-working if he's stupid, and
that's better than the other way round."

"Mrs Hankworth," began Anne, "I know what a good friend you've always
been to those that have got into trouble, and I came to ask your advice
about that poor Jane Evans."

"I just heard of it the other day," replied Mrs Hankworth, letting the
butter-prints sink on her lap. "I don't know how it was I came to know
of it so late. I'd no idea till the other day that she'd ever gone to
live with that Burton. I wonder how she got acquainted with him. There's
no men goes about their house. What's she doing now?"

"She's in the Union," said Anne, "and she sits there without speaking,
staring into the fire. Nobody can rouse her. She seems to have no life
left in her. It's pitiful to see her, and to think of what's coming to
her."

"She's been foolish," said Mrs Hankworth, "and I expect she'll find
plenty to make her pay for her foolishness. But I see no reason why she
shouldn't do all the better for a lesson. She'll have to work though.
There'll be no sitting round in silk blouses doing fancy-work. You
needn't be troubled about her moping when she's got the baby. They don't
leave you much time for that," she added with a laugh of retrospection.
"But your first baby's as much trouble as ten. If she can earn a living
when she comes out she'll be better without that Burton. He's no better
than a child's balloon. He's up, and you prick him with a pin and he's
down! She's provided in the Union, I suppose?"

"I think so, since they never aske