"Ay, whiles."
"Oh."
In the morning Reicht was sent to the hermit with the pelisse, and a pound of thick candles.
As she was going out of the door, Margaret said to her, "Said you whose son Gerard was?"
"Nay, not I."
"Think, girl! How could he call him Gerard, son of Eli, if you had not told him?"
Reicht persisted she had never mentioned him but as plain Gerard. But Margaret told her flatly she did not believe her; at which Reicht was affronted, and went out with a little toss of the head. However she determined to question the hermit again, and did not doubt he would be more liberal in his communication, when he saw his nice new pelisse and the candles.
She had not been gone long when Giles came in with ill news. The living of Gouda would be kept vacant no longer.
Margaret was greatly distressed at this. "Oh, Giles," said she, "ask for another month. They will give thee another month, maybe."
He returned in an hour to tell her he could not get a month. "They have given me a week," said he. "And what is a week?"