"We believed it was the custom to pay half-yearly, as Mr. Dare did not apply for it at the Michaelmas quarter," interrupted Jane. "We should have paid then, had he asked for it."
"At any rate, it is not paid," was the reply. "And—I am sorry, ma'am, to be under the necessity of leaving this man in possession until you do pay!"
They walked deliberately into the best parlour; and Jane, amidst a rushing feeling of despair that turned her heart to sickness, knew that a seizure had been put into the house.
As she stood in her bewilderment, Patience entered by the back door, the way she always did enter, and caught a glimpse of the shabby man. She drew Jane into the kitchen.
"What does that man do here?" she inquired.
For answer Jane sank into a chair and burst into sobs so violent as to surprise the calm Quakeress. She turned and shut the door.
"Hush thee! Now hush thee! Thy children will hear and be terrified. Art thee behind with thy taxes?"
For some minutes Jane could not reply. "Not for taxes," she said; "they are paid. Mr. Dare has put him in for the rent."
Patience revolved the news in considerable astonishment. "Nay, but I think thee must be in error. Thomas Ashley would not do such a thing."
"He has done it," sobbed Jane.