“But it won’t tire you any worse jest to say yes. I’m in a choky, nasty room now, and I want to give notice to quit. Ef you say ‘Yes’ to-night, I can give a week’s notice on Monday, and then I can move in yere Monday week. Nat’ll keep my bits of things in his room, and you’d give me a shake-down till you was married, wouldn’t you, Jill? Say yes, now do, dearie.”
“I can’t say nothing for certain, Susy. Nat and me we ain’t married yet. Ef we marry, I suppose you’re welcome to the room. I can’t say no more.”
“And you ’as said ’eaps, and I’m much obleeged,” said Susy, springing from her chair, running up to Jill and giving her a hearty embrace. “I’ll jest snap my fingers in my landlady’s face, come Monday. You’re a good sort, Jill, and a real out-and-out beauty. I don’t wonder Nat’s took with you. Now, I suppose, I had better go. Poor Nat! he were in a bit of trouble this morning for all he’s in such delight at your promising to wed him.”
“Nat in trouble!” said Jill, starting up, and speaking in a voice all animation and pain. “Wot do you mean, Susy? and why didn’t you tell me that afore?”
“I forgot it. My sakes, what a jumpy sort of wife you’ll make! I doubt if you and Nat will suit. He’s accustomed to me all his days and I never let my feelings get the upper hand in that style.”
“But wot is he in trouble about, Susy?”
“Oh, it’s that pal o’ his, Joe Williams.”
“Yes. Wot o’ he?” said Jill. She felt her heart beating quickly, for it was Williams’s money which Nat had placed in her keeping.
“He’s dead,” said Susy. “He died sudden this morning. Nat’s orful cut up, for the poor lad has left a wife and two or three children. By the way, Nat says that he has given you some money of Joe’s to keep safe for him.”
“So he has,” replied Jill.