“Well, ye can’t expect girls to bide single,” began the other; but the post-mistress handed her postal order with: “Six and sixpence, ma’am, please,” in such a business-like voice that the torrent of her speech was checked.
She took out the money sadly. She had seen trouble enough in the doctor’s house to have a kindly corner in her heart, disciplinarian though she professed herself.
“Nobody wouldn’t deny but what poor Lucy would ha’ done better if she ’adn’t never ha’ seen that Jerry,” she began again; “and if the Lord was to be minded to take ’im, o’ course she could do much better for ’erself and the childer....”
“That may be very like,” interrupted the tyrant sternly. “Nevertheless, ye’ll please not to take the Lord’s name in vain on my premises! We poor sinners ain’t got nothin’ to do wi’ the ways o’ Providence.”
“No offence,” said the visitor cheerily. “I’m sure I don’t want to presume to interfere with Them above; and p’r’aps Lucy mightn’t be pleased, though it would make things so much easier for ’er. She do seem sot on ’im still, don’t she? I often wonder,” she added confidentially, “if she guesses as ’e ain’t true to ’er.”
Miss Hearn assumed a more shocked expression than ever.
“When a woman ’ave so far forgot ’erself there’s no length she won’t go to!” said she sententiously. “She ain’t never ’ad no proper pride—and she won’t get it now. Always a-defendin’ and a-upholdin’ o’ ’im! It’s terrible to witness!”
“Yes, it’s my belief she loves ’im still,” said the doctor’s housekeeper reflectively.
And then the postman came in with the mail-bag, and the post-mistress was forced to make up for lost time, and look sharp stamping the letters. The visitor hastened to depart.
If she could have seen the object of her good-natured consideration a few hours later she would certainly have been inclined to endorse her own opinion that Lucy loved him still.