For a moment or two Mrs. Tappitt sat mute, almost in despair. Then she took courage and spoke out.
"T.," said she, "it won't do."
"What won't do?"
"All this won't do. We shall be ruined and left without a home. I don't mind myself; I never did; but think of the girls! What would they do if we was turned out of this?"
"Who's to turn you out?"
"I know. I see it. I am beginning to understand. T., that man would not go against you and the brewery if he didn't know which way the wind is blowing. Worts is wide awake,—quite wide; he always was. T., you must take the offer Rowan has made of a regular income and live retired. If you don't do it,—I shall!" And Mrs. Tappitt, as she spoke the audacious words, rose up from her chair, and stood with her arms leaning upon the table.
"What!" said Tappitt, sitting aghast with his mouth open.
"Yes, T.; if you don't think of your family I must. What I'm saying Mr. Honyman has said before; and indeed all Baslehurst is saying the same thing. There's an offer made to you that will put your family on a footing quite genteel,—no gentlefolks in the county more so; and you, too, that are getting past your work!"
"I ain't getting past my work."
"I shouldn't say so, T., if it weren't for your own good,—and if I'm not to know about that, who is? It's all very well going about electioneering; and indeed it's just what gentlefolks is fit for when they're past their regular work; And I'm sure I shan't begrudge it so long as it don't cost anything; but that's not work you know, T."