For a sick woman, to be sure, the ague fit had left its victim for that day, and she was feeling better. Mrs. Barford laughed very uproariously.
Just then, her son came in to hear how she was, and what he should send up for her dinner. His good-natured wide mouth expanded into a broad grin, as he stood with a clownish air at the door, staring at Dorothy, without advancing a step.
"Why, mother, you be in a mighty foony humour. I 'spected to find ye's croonin an groaning in fit this morning. What did lass say, to make ye's laugh out so loud?"
"Shut the door, Joe, and come here," said his mother, still laughing. "What do you think. Nance Watling has been turning everything upside down at the Heath Farm. She made proposals to Gilbert for a sleeping partner."
"Oh, no, ma'am. Not quite so bad as that," put in Dorothy, thinking that her new friend was not adhering strictly to the truth. "He was to go shares with her in the farm."
"Pshaw! child. I can see through her tricks. It all comes to the same thing. Why she made an offer to Joe here before he married."
"Yes, that a' did," simpered Joe, "I dare say she'd deny it now. She wanted to ha' me, whether a' wud or no. And what said old man?"
"He wanted Gilly to close with her offer."
"O coorse—he thought o' her big fortin. Old Larry is fond o' the money."
"Gilbert kicked up, it seems," continued Mrs. Barford, "and would have none of the old maid. He wanted to take this lass. Lawrence flew into a rage, and turned the poor girl out of the house. The wife, who knows her value, sent her straight to me. She will be of rare service during these busy times to Letty and me."