"No, sir, my husband was."
"So: what was his name?"
"John Deg, sir."
"Deg?" said Mr. Spires. "Deg, did you say?"
"Yes, sir."
The manufacturer seemed to hitch himself off toward his own side of the gig, gave another look at her, and was silent. The poor woman was somewhat astonished at his look and movement, and was silent too.
After awhile Mr. Spires said again, "And do you hope to find friends in
Stockington? Had you none where you came from?"
"None, sir, none in the world!" said the poor woman, and again her feelings seemed too strong for her. At length she added, "I was in service, sir, at Poole, in Dorsetshire, when I married; my mother only was living, and while I was away with my husband, she died. When-when the news came from abroad—that when I was a widow, sir, I went back to my native place, and the parish officers said I must go to my husband's parish lest I and my child should become troublesome."
"You asked relief of them?"
"Never; Oh, God knows, no, never! My family have never asked a penny of a parish. They would die first, and so would I, sir; but they said I might do it, and I had better go to my husband's parish at once—and they offered me money to go."