“Which, being interpreted, means ‘Serjeant Ramsden of the County Constabulary,’” interrupted Dorothy, with an arch smile. “Well, what do they, alias Serjeant Ramsden, say.”
“Why,” answered Betty in no wise abashed. “He, aw meean they, say ’at it doesn’t matter a brass farden i’ Chancery whether a man’s i’ th’ reight or th’ wrang. It’s th’ longest purse at wins i’ th’ long run. Th’ Serjeant says, miss, ’at if Tom wins i’ one court yo’r uncle can peeal to a higher court, an’ on an’ on till it reaches th’ Lord Hissen.”
“The Lords, you mean, perhaps, Betty.”
“Weil, it’s all as one, for ought aw can see. It’s naked we come into th’ world, and naked we go aat on it, an aw reckon Tom ’ll be stripped pretty stark afore th’ case gets up to th’ Lords.”
“But what’s it all about, Betty? Dear me, if being in love makes a woman so tiresome as you are, I hope such a calamity will never befall me. What has Mr. Pinder done?”
“Oh!” said Betty, “there’s no hope o’ yo’r escapin’ it unless so be as yo’r minded to play a very one-sided game. But if yo’ ax me what th’ law stir’s abaat, as far as aw can mak’ aat th’ mester says it’s abaat th’ watter-reets to th’ mill, but folk sen it’s nowt but spite, so nah yo’ han it plump an’ fair.”
“Meaning that my uncle has gone to law with his former apprentice from some petty feeling of jealousy, or just to cripple him or even ruin him?”
“That’s th’ talk o’th village, choose ha.”
“Well, I don’t believe it, Betty. My uncle is incapable of such conduct. But I’ll soon find out for myself. Get me my hat and cape this moment. I’m going out.” And Dorothy walked with quick, resolute steps to Ben Garside’s house. She was fortunate enough to find Lucy alone, and of this she was glad, for she was in no humour to enjoy Hannah’s garrulous speech.
“What’s this I hear, Lucy, about my uncle going to law with Mr. Pinder. I can make neither head nor tail of Betty at home, so I’ve come to you. It seems to me there’s something about law that forbids people to be intelligible when they’re talking of it?”