“Well it’s for yo’ to judge. She made out it mut be waur for Ben here if tha didn’t go.”
“Mary ’ll noan go near such like wi’ my consent,” I cried.
“Whativver can th’ woman want?” mused Mary. “Aw’ve a good mind…. Ben Walker’s away to Chester yo’ say? For good an’ all?”
“Aye, they’ll keep him fast enough yo’ may rest content.”
“I’ve a good mind…,” continued Mary. “Waur for our Ben, did she say? I’ll go.”
“Yo’ll do nowt o’ th’ sort!” I said.
“An’ since when wer’ yo’ mi mester, cousin Ben?” she asked. “I’st go and aunt ’ll mebbe go wi’ me.”
“Not an inch,” snapped my mother, who had left Faith in a great measure composed “Aw’d be poisoned if aw’ breathed th’ same air.”
“Then aw’st go by misen. Yo’ can see me to th’ Brigg, Ben, if tha likes. But I’ll hear what ’oo has to say. She cannot harm me, an I’st happen get to know something that may help us.”
“Mary’s right,” said Soldier. “My word, Ben, thee’s getten thi mester,” he whispered to me on the sly.