“Oh, no, ’e ain’t,” said the wife. “But Dan bain’t niver been a stay-at-’ome man. ’Is mother were a rough customer they do say, and she didn’t use ’im to it.”
“Well, and I’ve ’eard tell she were too much sot on ’im altogether,” laughed Martha. “Wouldn’t let ’im go out for ’alf a’ ’our’s chat but what she’d call ’is dead father to mind when ’e come ’ome, and snivel over ’im as if ’e was a child. A man couldn’t be expected to stan’ that.”
“P’r’aps not,” assented the other, considering. “All the same it bain’t much use ’avin’ a man if ’e bain’t niver at ’ome. Maybe your ’usbin’ don’t care for company.”
“I’d catch im carin’ for any company but mine when I wanted his’n,” declared Mrs. Hewson defiantly. “But I bain’t one to care for a man allers draggin’ about—they be more in the way than hanythink. I can’t niver find two words to say to Bill when once I’ve giv’ ’im ’is cup o’ tea or whativer it might be. It be more nor I can make out ’ow women can bide men plaguin’ round ’em from mornin’ till night. Bill be too stay-at-’ome by ’alf—though, to be sure, I do let ’im ’ave it if ’e come ’ome late o’ nights, that be certain,” she added, laughing.
The other woman stared at her a minute, speechless and wondering; then she sighed.
“Well, I niver!” ejaculated she. “Pore feller!” and the thought flew through her mind that she would not have treated him so.
“Pore feller indeed!” cried Mrs. Hewson indignantly. “Why, bain’t ’e dead sot on me, and wouldn’t ’e rayther ’ave my tongue any day than another gal’s palavers? What else should ’e be so stay-at-’ome for, I’d like to know? Pore feller! What next?”
She settled her hat on her head with a quick, irritated movement, but the next minute she laughed again.
“But belike you fancy a man allers a-dancin’ round you,” laughed she. “Some gals do. I can swop a buss now and then as well as most, but I like to get it over o’ proper times.”
Milly blushed, and shifted the baby to the other arm.