Lovey put down the glittering peat knife with which she toiled, and rose to her full height.
"So 'tis! The gentleman as I seed with Grace Malherb?"
"The same. I hope I see you well."
Mrs. Lee did not answer, but started to fetch the milk, and Peter followed her. Presently she produced a teacup and handed it to him.
"I thank you. And here's a shilling; but you must let me have some change—sixpence at least." This he said to try her.
Bitterly disappointed, Lovey returned to her den, and while she was absent, Mr. Norcot, who had not drunk milk since he was a baby, emptied his teacup into the heather. He was apparently smacking his lips when the old woman reappeared.
"I've no change but these dirty coppers from the prisoners to Prince Town. The hands that held 'em last was shaking with smallpox, but of course you won't mind," she said.
"Tut, tut! Keep them, keep them, my dear woman. I only jested. So you traffic in the prison markets with the French?"
"No—the Yankees. I understand their speech, and they've got more money," said Lovey, stroking the coppers.
"Ah!—'tis an ill wind that blows good to nobody. So you begin to get money, my poor soul? But be very careful, I beg of you.