"Yes," admitted Elias; "and if the moon had only been made of green cheese--us should always have had plenty of maggots for fishing."
Upon this great aphorism Margaret Stanbury took her leave; and Dorcas, who had been waiting for her, now approached in a mood neither lightsome nor joyous.
"I've got the headache," she said. "I've been crying my eyes out for a fortnight and I wish I was dead."
"Dorcas!"
"'Tis all along of Billy Screech--cruel and wicked I call it. But us will be upsides with father and mother yet. Why for shouldn't I marry the man if I love him? Such a clever man as he is--full of ideas and quite as able to make a living, I'm sure, as anybody else. And I want for your mother to ax him to the wedding, Madge--just to pay father out. If he sees Billy there his pleasure will be spoilt--and sarve him right--the cruel old man!"
"Don't feel so savage about it. Bide your time and tell Billy to stand to work and get regular wages and make Mr. Bowden respect him. I've often heard Bart say that Mr. Screech is wonnerful clever in all sorts of queer ways, and 'tis only the poaching makes your father angry, I expect."
"He's given all that up long ago. Will you ax him to your wedding?"
"I can't, Dorcas. Mr. Bowden has just expressly forbidden it. I'm very, very sorry. Perhaps after I'm married I shall be able to help you; but it rests with Billy."
"I'll marry him," said Dorcas. "And not a thousand fathers shall stop it; and I'll tell you another thing: it won't be long afore I do. Just you wait and see."
CHAPTER IV