“Jagger was converted as sudden as a Methody, t’ night o’ Boxing Day,” replied Maniwel; “and t’ penitent form was t’ saw-bench in t’ new shop. If he isn’t altogether o’ my way o’ thinking he has his face that road.”
“Converted? How so?” The squire turned puzzled eyes on the other, who, looking up and catching the expression, allowed a smile to overspread his face.
“Aye, converted! Put away childish things and became a new creature! You wouldn’t know him for t’ same man, if you had to live wi’ him. He was always more of a lass than his sister; but from that night he’s been a man; and that’s what I call conversion, though it happen isn’t what ’ud go by that name wi’ t’ Methodies.”
“I see,” laughed the squire, “I suppose there was a cause for the change?—but you needn’t tell me. Yorke gave me a hint when I remarked on the improvement in Jagger’s bearing. His disappointment won’t be an unmixed evil, I hope. Well, good luck, Drake! Let me know if I can be of service to you.”
The horse leaped forward at a touch of the bridle and Maniwel was left to his reflections; but before he had covered another mile the squire reined up again, as he overtook a second solitary pedestrian.
“So it’s you, Mistress Nancy, is it?” he said, looking down mischievously into the face that was upturned to his own. “Isn’t the air fresh enough down below that you must needs come up here for your promenade? Or is your skin too hard to be turned into a pin-cushion for the wind? Mine is stabbed in ten thousand places!”
“It nips a bit, sir,” she answered; “but that’s nothing. I thought a sharp walk on the moor would do me good.”
“I see!” The squire was reading the face that had been quickly turned away from his scrutinising gaze. The girl was not ill at ease in his company, but her expression was hard in harmony with her surroundings, and there was nothing in her voice that responded to the squire’s geniality. All the same she was an attractive picture, for the tawny cheeks were suffused with a rich red, and the black eyes sparkled like polished jet, besides which she had a good figure and an elastic step, and held her head like a woman of spirit.
“I see!” he repeated; and paused before he continued—“You’ve been entering into the holy estate of matrimony, I’m told, whilst I was away. I’m afraid I forget the name; but you must allow me to wish you much happiness. Mistress Nancy.”
“Thank you, sir. The name is Inman,” she replied; and though she had schooled herself to repeat the word without revealing the abhorrence it caused her, a slight curl of the lip and contraction of the brow afforded signs the squire was not slow to interpret, especially as the information had been given in the coldest of tones.