“He says anything, sir,” continued Mrs Banks.
“No, he don’t,” roared Joe. “He’s a saying raight, and what he says is, that he won’t be interfered wi’ by anyone. He’s got trouble enew ower the strike, and he won’t hev trouble ower this; so perhaps Mr Selwood ’ll stop away from my place till he’s asked to come again.”
“Joe, you ought to be ashamed of yoursen,” cried Mrs Banks. “He’ll come and beg your pardon for this, sir, or I’ll know the reason why.”
“No, he wean’t,” roared Joe. “So now go; and if you hadn’t been such a straightforward chap ower the row again Master Richard, I’d hev said twice as much to you.”
“Yes, I’ll go,” said the vicar quietly. “Good day, Mrs Banks. Good day, Banks; you’ll find I’m less disposed to meddle than you think, and give me credit for this some day. Come, you’ll shake hands.”
“Dal me if I will,” cried Joe.
“Nonsense, man; shake hands.”
“I wean’t,” roared Joe, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and turning his back.
“Well, Mrs Banks, you will,” said the vicar; and then, as he went away, he said:
“Mrs Banks, and you, Mr Banks, please recollect this: I shall forget all these words before I get home; so don’t either of you think that we are bad friends, because we are not; and you, Mr Banks, you are of too sterling stuff not to feel sorry for what you have said.”