s proud of his wife; not out of
devotion, but vanity.

Some days later arrived a little tax-cart driven by Iver, with
Mrs. Verstage in it.

The hostess had already discovered what a difference it made in
her establishment to have in it a raw and dull-headed maid in
the room of the experienced and intelligent daughter. She did
not regret what she had done--she had removed Mehetabel out of
the reach of Iver, and had no longer any anxiety as to the disposal
of his property by Simon. For her own sake she was sorry, as she
plainly saw that her life was likely to run less smoothly in the
future in her kitchen and with her guests. Now that Mehetabel was
no longer dangerous, her heart unfolded towards her once more.

The young wife received Mrs. Verstage with pleasure. The flush
came into her cheeks when she saw her, and for the moment she had
no eyes, no thoughts, no welcome for Iver.

The landlady was not so active as of old, and she had to be assisted
from her seat. As soon as she reached the ground she was locked in
the embrace of her daughter by adoption.

Then Mehetabel conducted the old woman over the house, and showed
her the new arrangements she had made, and consulted her on certain
projected alterations.

Jonas had come to the door when the vehicle arrived; he was in his
most gracious mood, and saluted first the hostess and then her
son, with unwonted cordiality.

"Come now, Matabel," said Mrs. Verstage, when both she and the
young wife were alone together, "I did well to push this on, eh?
You have a decent house, and a good farm. All yours, not rented,
so none can turn you out. What more could you desire? I dare be
sworn Bideabout has got a pretty nest egg stuck away somewhere,
up the chimney or under the hearth. Has he shown you what he has?
There was the elder Gilly Cheel was a terrible skinflint. When he
died his sons hunted high and low for his money and couldn't find
it. And just as they wos goin' to bury him, the nuss said she
couldn't make a bootiful corpse of him, he were that puffed in
his mouth. What do you think, Matabel? The old chap had stuffed
his money into his mouth when he knew he was dyin'. Didn't want
nobody to have it but himself. Don't you let Bideabout try any
of them games."

"Have you missed me greatly, dear mother?" asked Mehetabel, who
had heard the story of Giles Cheel before.

Mrs. Verstage sighed.

"My dear, do you know the iron-stone bowl as belonged to my
mother. The gi