"'Mrs. Lane,' says he, 'my son Gilbert has been promoted for his gallant conduct. He's an officer now in His Majesty's service, and is going to marry a rich young lady in Lunnon, with a portion of six thousand pounds.' These were the very words he said. 'Lauk, sir,' says I, 'what will become of poor Dorothy?'"
"And what did he say?" again demanded the eager voices.
"'She must get over her disappointment the best way she can,' says he. 'The girl is no worse off than she wor; she will still have a home at our house.'"
"Very kind of him, I'm sure," said Miss Watling, "and she owes them so much."
"I think the debt is the other way," suggested Mrs. Barford. "Dorothy has repaid them a thousandfold. She has been a little fortune to them, and, besides her clothes, she receives no payment for her services. As to Gilbert marrying a lady of fortune, it may be true, it may not; these stories are always exaggerated. You all know that a great heap of chaff only contains a third of wheat."
"I have no doubt it's true," cried Letty. "I allers thought Gilly Rushmere a right handsome feller."
"I don't agree with you there, Mrs. Joseph," returned Miss Watling, to whom the grapes had become doubly sour, "he was too red and white to please my taste. His nose was turned up, and his hair decidedly carrotty."
The other women looked down in their laps and tittered; the same thought was uppermost in all their minds.
Mrs. Joe, who had no delicacy, and hated Nancy Watling, burst into a rude laugh, and gave utterance to her's with the greatest bluntness.
"All the parish said that you were over head and ears in love with Gilbert, Nancy; that you made him an offer of marriage yourself; and that he refused you point blank, for Dorothy Chance. Remember, I don't say it's true, but for all that I heard it, and that you have hated both of them like pison ever since."