There was something sinister in the girl’s manner. Edith drew aside, and would have passed on without any reply, but the other ran before her and blocked the way.
“No, you don’t go like that. I want a word with thee, my fine lady. Ah, you may toss your bead, but you’d best bide a bit, and listen.”
“What do you want? I cannot stay.”
“No call to hurry,” cried Sal, with a coarse laugh. “Thy man’s out, and don’t expect thee. Belike he’s gone courting some one else. Ah, he’s a rum chap, the minister, though he do set up for a saint.”
Edith shuddered and shrank back.
“Go away,” she said. “How dare you speak to me like that?”
“Dare? That’s a good one! No, you shan’t pass till I’ve done wi’ thee.” Edith was getting positively frightened, for the girl’s manner was so rude and threatening, when she saw a tall figure approaching, and in a moment recognized the clergyman. He was close to them, and paused in astonishment at seeing the two together.
“Miss Dove! Is anything the matter? Why are you here, so late, and in such company?”
He paused, looking suspiciously at Sal, who laughed impudently.
“I was passing by, and she stopped me. Do send her away!”