"Who was that chap in Plymouth, then?"
Mrs. Tom gave way. "Oh, a sailor, like they all are. 'E've done very well for 'isself. 'E's a captain now."
"Mammy!" Out of two hints Richbell had evolved a fact. "'Twasn't that man that left the impudent message for daddy last summer, was it?"
"Take and 'old yer tongue, do!" But recollection had lighted Mrs. Tom's eyes with laughter.
"Well, was it?"
"Iss. 'E said, 'Is ole Tom livin' yet? I'm waitin' for 'e to die. I want 'is shoes.'"
"He isn't married yet?"
"'E say 'e's waitin' for me."
"Why didn't you have him?"
"Because I liked your father best." Remembering the lesson she had been trying to inculcate, she added more soberly, "'E 'ad the promise of a good farm."