other. I d' 'low that
'ud shame her."

"Maybe it would," said Miss Vacher dubiously, though with a latent
gleam of malice in her eye.

"Take my advise an' do it then," urged Mrs. Tuffin earnestly. "Make
the best of a bad job an' turn the tables on she. All the village 'ull
be mad wi' her--the tale 'ull be in every one's mouth."

Miss Vacher compressed her lips and meditatively rubbed her hands.

"Well, I will; but I'll tell 'ee summat--I'll cut off every inch o'
that red border."

She picked up the rug as she spoke and held it out. "That'll spile the
looks of it anyhow," she remarked triumphantly.

The threat was carried into effect, and on the morrow poor Abel
Guppy's little household gods were duly transferred to the home of his
former sweetheart. Jenny professed great indifference to Susan's
scornful message, and continued to hold her head high in spite of the
storm of indignation provoked by her conduct. She claimed and carried
off the departed yeoman's Savings Bank book, and was much aggrieved on
finding that the authorities would not at once permit her to avail
herself of the little vested fund; inquiries must be made, they said,
and in any case some time must elapse before she could be permitted to
draw the money out.

This was the only real cloud on Jenny's horizon, however, and she
speedily forgot it in the midst of her wedding preparations. She and
her Sam had made up their little difference, and as he was well-to-do
in the world, and quite able to support a wife, there seemed to be no
reason for delay.

The banns were duly called, therefore, and on one sunshiny summer's
day Jenny and Sam, followed by a little band of near relatives, walked
gleefully to their new home from the church where they had been made
one. Betty Tuffin, who, as a lone woman, could not in justice to
herself refuse any paying job, however little she might approve of her
employer, had been left to take care of the house and to assist in
preparing the refreshments, As the little party approached the cottage
door they were surprised to see her standing on the threshold, now
portentously wagging her black-capped head, now burying her face in
her apron, evidently a prey to strong emotion, though of what
particular kind it was difficult to say.

The bride hastened her steps, and Betty, who had for the twentieth
time taken refuge in her apron, cautiously uncovered what seemed to be
a very watery eye, and remarked in muffled and quave