"Bartley? Who is he?"
"Oh, one of those chaps that rise from nothing nowadays. Came here to farm; but that was a blind, the Colonel says. Sunk a mine, he did, and built a pit village, and turns everything into brass [money]. But there, you are a stranger, sir; what is all this to you?"
"Why, it is very interesting," said Monckton. "Mistress, I always like to hear the whole history of every place I stop at, especially from a sensible woman like you, that sees to the bottom of things. Do have another glass. Why, I should be as dull as ditch-water, now, if I had not your company."
"La, sir, I'm sure you are welcome to my company in a civil way; and for the matter of that you are right; life is life, and there's plenty to be learned in a public—do but open your eyes and ears."
"Have another glass with me. I am praised for my punch."
"You deserve it, sir. Better was never brewed."
She sipped and sipped, and smacked her lips, till it was all gone.
This glass colored her cheeks, brightened her eyes, and even loosened her tongue, though that was pretty well oiled by nature.
"Well, sir," said she, "you are a bird of passage, here to-day and gone to-morrow, and it don't matter much what I tell you, so long as I don't tell no lies. There will be a row in this village."
Having delivered this formidable prophecy, the coy dame pushed her glass to her companion for more, and leaning back cozily in the old-fashioned high-backed chair, observed the effect of her thunder-bolt.