"Well, you look a fine enough lady now," she said, a shade of envy in her voice. "How long's it going to last?"
"As long as I like," said Peg coolly. She was not going to tell them that already the end of her happiness was in sight.
Mrs. Johnson looked at her daughter uncomfortably.
"You'd best come in the parlour," she said. "You'll get all messed up if you stay here."
But Peg declined to move. She looked at Ben again.
"Why aren't you at Heeler's?" she asked.
He laughed sheepishly, and exchanged glances with her stepfather.
"Because we ain't, that's why," he said, significantly.
Peg's mother broke in fretfully:
"A lazy, ungrateful lot—that's what I say they are! Never satisfied! What's the use of being out of work for a few extra shillings a week and letting us all starve.... No; I shan't shut up!" she added, as her husband tried to check her flow of eloquence. "It's true, what I'm saying. You've always been treated fair at Heeler's, and never no complaints till that new manager came, but now ... nothing right! Something always wrong." She turned to Peg. "They think they've got a grudge against Mr. Heeler," she explained. "Think! They don't know, mind you! None of 'em!"