"I have been—doing a great deal."
"Aye," she answered. "I suppose so."
She jerked her thumb toward Granny Dixon's basket chair, which stood empty.
"She's takken down," she said. "She wur takken down a week sin', an' a noice toime we're ha'in' nursin' her. None on us can do anything wi' her but mother—she can settle her, thank th' Amoighty."
She rested her sharp little elbows upon her knees and her chin upon both palms and surveyed him with interest.
"Has tha seed him?" she demanded suddenly.
"Who?" he asked.
"Him," with a nod of her head. "Th' furriner as is stayin' at Mester Ffrench's. Yo' mun ha' seen him. He's been theer three days."
"I saw him this evening."
"I thowt tha mun ha' seed him. He coom o' Monday. He coom fro' France. I should na," with a tone of serious speculation,—"I should na ha' thowt she'd ha' had a Frenchman."