"Let us hear what you earned last week, if it isn't impertinent," was Mary Ann's answer.
"Ten and ninepence."
"Look at that!" cried the girl, lifting her hands. "I brought out but five and twopence, and I left no money for silk, and am in debt two quarterns. 'Melia was worse. Hers came to four and eleven. That surly old foreman says to me when he was paying, 'What d'ye leave for silk, Mary Ann Cross? There's two quarterns down.' 'I know there is, sir,' says I, 'but I don't leave nothing to-day.' He gave a grunt at that, the old file did."
"And I suppose you spent your five shillings in some useless thing?"
"I had to pay up at Bankes's, and the rest went in a new peach bonnet-ribbon."
"Peach! You should have bought white, if you must be married."
"Thank you, Charlotte! What next? Do you suppose I'm going to be married in that shabby old straw, that I've worn all the spring? Not if I know it."
"Where's your money to come from for a new one? There will be other things wanted, more essential than a bonnet."
"I'll have a new one if I go in trust for it," returned Mary Ann. "Tyrrett buys the ring. And it is of no use for you to preach, Charlotte; if you preach your tongue out, it'll do no good."
Charlotte might, indeed, have preached a very long sermon before she could effect any change in the system of improvidence obtaining in Honey Fair. Neither Benjamin Tyrrett nor Mary Ann Cross was gifted with forethought, and they took no pains to acquire it.