Bindle sat down to his supper. Several times Mrs. Bindle entered the room to fetch various things, but no word passed between them. Bindle had been taken by surprise. He would have been even more surprised had he seen the expression on Mrs. Bindle's face as she coaxed and crooned over the girl lying on the bed upstairs.
When she finally returned to the kitchen, Bindle, his supper finished, had made up his mind to a great sacrifice. For a few seconds they stood regarding each other. It was Bindle who broke the silence.
"Lizzie," he said awkwardly, "I'll go to chapel on Sunday if you like."
And then for no reason at all Mrs. Bindle sat down at the table, buried her face in her arms and sobbed convulsively.
"I wonder wot I done now," muttered Bindle, as he regarded Mrs. Bindle's heaving shoulders with a puzzled expression on his face. "Funny things, women."
CHAPTER XXI
CONCLUSION
"So 'Earty comes round in the mornin' an' says 'e's sorry, an' Millikins she be'aves jest like a little princess, 'oldin' 'er 'ead as 'igh as 'igh, an' agrees to go back, an' everybody lives 'appy ever after, everybody 'cept me. Since that night Mrs. B. 'as given me pickles. I don't understand it," he added in a puzzled way; "seems as if she's sort of 'uffy cause she dripped a bit."
"I think that is what it must be," remarked Mrs. Dick Little. "You must be gentle with her."