Sunday after Sunday, pacing slowly by Martha and Old Split’s side from the chapel gates to the modest home above the shop in Victoria Street. But when it become known that Jabez Tinker actually took his roast beef, and Yorkshire pudding, and apple pie (with cheese) at Splits, the spinsterdom of the village was divided between wrath and scorn.

“Such a letting down to th’ Tinkers,” declared one.

“I’ll never believe it till I see it,” affirmed another.

“It’s money he’s after,” a third alleged.

“He’s enough o’ his own.”

“There’s no telling. Happen he’s speculated. Besides, much will have more, an’ Tinkers wer’ allus rare ’uns for th’ main chance,” was the general conclusion.

“All but poor Dick,” said his old cronies of the Rose and Crown.

“By gosh! But Ginger o’ Split’s ’ud be a pill as ’ud bide some gilding for my taste,” vowed the jolly landlord. “Jabez mun ha’ a good stomach.”

And what thought Martha?

It was inconceivable to her at first that the visits of Mr. Tinker, of Wilberlee, could be anything but visits of business to her father; doubtless some matter connected with the Chapel or the Sunday School. But Ephraim dropped hints.

“How would ta like to be wed, lass?

“Father!”

“Aye, it’s father now. It ’ll be happen gran’father afore long,” and the old man chuckled a greasy chuckle.

It could not be true, murmured Martha to her heart. That anyone should come a wooing to her, unless, perchance it were some needy parson after her money, seemed preposterous. And yet everyone said Mr. Tinker was more than well-to-do. And, after all, was she so very plain? Is there in this wide, wide world a woman’s glass that does not tell a flattering tale to one, at least? And, as she looked, a warm glow tinged the pale cheeks, and a light shone in her eyes they had never known before. To be loved! To be loved for her own sake! To get away from that horrid shop; to be Jabez Tinkers lady; to queen it over those who had sneered at her behind her back! There was rapture in the thought. And oh! She would love him so; she would be his very slave; no house should be like theirs. Never did the heart of Andromeda 

 Prev. P 35/194 next