“I ha' browt it back to yo';” she said, calmly.
He glanced down at the package and then up at her, irritated and embarrassed.
“You have brought it back to me?” he said. “May I ask what it is?”
“I dunnot think yo' need ask; but sin' yo' do so, I con answer. It's th' money, Mester Landsell,—th' money yo' give to poor Lizzie.”
“And may I ask again, what the money I gave to poor Lizzie has to do with you?”
“Yo' may ask again, an' I con answer. I am th' poor lass's friend,—happen th' only friend she has i' th' world,—an' I tell yo' as I will na see yo' play her false again.”
“The devil!” he broke forth, angrily. “You speak as—as if you thought I meant her harm.”
He colored and faltered, even as he spoke. Joan faced him with bright and scornful eyes.
“If yo' dunnot mean her harm, dunnot lead her to underhand ways o' deceivin' them as means her well. If yo' dunnot mean her harm, tak' yore belongings and leave Riggan to-morrow morning.”
He answered her by a short, uneasy laugh.