'I'm afraid Hatfield found himself mistaken about the work; there are no mills in London,' said Richard.
'No, or if there be we never found them; but the master's had a bit o' luck, and he's getten took on at a place they call Dartford; m'appen you've heerd on it?'
'Well, I am glad to hear that. I hope all the hands have done as well.'
'No one's gladder nor me. Ah can't say for the lump o' the hands; but him, ever since he heerd as t' mill was to stop, he's not been t' say the same man as wor so fond of you and Rowley, and as used to go to chapel regular, and was allus the best o' husbands.'
'I hope he's not unkind to you?' said the young man anxiously.
'Nay; he's steady enow, and kind enow, but he's changed like. He willn't go to chapel no more, an' he says as he don't believe as our trouble's t' visitings o' a kind Providence.'
No more did Richard, but he forbore to say so; and she went on, the pent-up anxiety and sorrow of the last few weeks finding vent at last,—
'An' he's bitter set against Rowley. I wonder by hours and hours whether there's summat atween 'em as I don't know of. Sithee, Dick, if tha'll tell me one thing it'll do no harm nor no good to no one but me, and it'll set my mind at rest. Was there owt i' what folks set down i' Thornsett? Was it Rowley as stole our Alice?'
This point-blank question caught the young man right off his guard. His face gave the answer; his lips only stammered, 'How should I know? Besides, it can do no one any good now to know that.'