"I'm called Cicely," she said—"'Sis' for shortness. And what be you called?"
"My name's Samuel Borlase," he answered, and she nodded.
"I'll remember," she said.
In five minutes they were walking side by side to her home, which lay along the policeman's beat; and he carried her basket and talked about local affairs.
He was a bit shaken, however, to know she belonged to Chawner, and wished with all his heart that she had not.
Mr. Green was in his garden when they came along and he struck a tragical attitude and poked fun at 'em, for no man loved a joke better than what he did.
"Already!" he cried. "Have she fallen into evil already, Borlase? Be the sins of the fathers visited on the childer so soon?"
But the girl hastened to explain.
"He's been merciful, dad," she explained. "Mr. Borlase catched me stealing sloe berries for your sloe gin; but I didn't know I was stealing, you see, for I thought they were free, so he's forgived me and I ban't to hear no more of it this time."
"Then he can come in and have a drop of the last brew," declared Chawner; "but just look round afore he enters and see as no fur nor feathers be about in the house-place to fret him."