66

'tis all agreed; I've been to ask promission."

"Sombry met ha' axed mine, Ι doubt," said Mary in rather an offended tone; "but 'tis all same to me who lives here. I don't see mich on 'em." "No, to be sure," agreed Martha, much relieved. "Ye'll take off clog outside, wunnot ye?"

"I'll do nought o' the kind," responded Miss Makin with spirit. "I'm not a-goin' to be ordered about in my own house. I'll take 'em off same as I've always done."

And with that-oh, horrible desecration! she not only planted one large clog, decidedly in need of wiping, in the very centre of Martha's doormat, but proceeded to clump across the floor which Mrs. Lupton had just raddled, and to take up her position on the hearthrug itself.

"Here! Look out-mind wheer you'm goin', woman!" cried the indignant Martha, shocked out of all her previous caution. "They things isn't meant to be trod on-ye met see that for yoursel' if ye had e'en in your head. I reckon ye've done for that hearthrug -an' jest look what a mess ye've made on clean floor. 'Tis easy seen you're not used to dacent ways."

Mary contemptuously kicked the hearthrug out of the way. "I don't think nought at all o' sich trumpery things," she cried, "all made o' tags and rags.

rug?"

Wheer's we're own hearth

"Mrs. Rimmer took it wi' her," re turned Martha, not ill-pleased to draw down the new-comer's wrath on that recreant one.

"I'll soon have it back, then, if that's all," retorted Miss Makin; and out of the house she marched, every step leaving a muddy impression, and hammered vigorously on the neighboring door.

Martha remained by her own fireside, groaning and shaking, not only with

anger, but with a kind of fear-an entirely novel sensation. Never in all her life had she found anyone to "stand up to her" before; and now, not only was Mary determined to stand up to her, but was evidently-so she owned to herself with a sinking heart-quite ready to trample on her, if need be.

After a moment's fierce altercation Miss Makin returned, triumphantly carrying a mat, of the kind common in cottages, which she proceeded to spread in front of the fire; then, catching up Martha's treasured handiwork, turned with it towards the door.

"Wheer are ye fur?" inquired Martha, with trembling tones.

"Folks next door mun ha' summat to set afore fire," returned Mary laconically.

"Yon's mine!" shrieked Martha.

"Well, then, mak' up your mind and tak' your ch'ice," returned Miss Makin resolutely. "If ye leave it here I'll stand on't."

Either alternative seemed dreadful, and while Martha was lamenting and hesitating, Mary, who was a person of prompt action, clumped out of the cottage and threw the precious object in at her neighbor's door, which she then slammed to.

"Now, let's hear no more on't," she observed decidedly. "You've comed to live in this 'ere house without a 'byyour-leave' or 'wi-your-leave' to me. I'm not much a-whoam, but when I am I'll thank ye to keep a civil tongue i' your head, Mrs. Lupton. I work hard all day, and I'll have peace and comfort o' neets. So now ye know, an' mun act accordin"."

Mary looked so big and masterful, as she stood there with her muddy feet firmly planted on the shabby rug, her expression was so fierce and her voice so loud, that, though several retorts rose to Martha's lips, she forbore to utter them, and sat down instead, suddenly and quite meekly.

Her new life had begun not very auspiciously, and her heart sank lower and lower as the days passed. Mary Makin was quite willing to accomplish a due share of work, provided she was allowed to set about it in her own way. For instance, she made no difficulty about drawing a bucket of water in the morning, but violently resented any hints about carrying it carefully and avoiding letting it "swill over." She would clean the grate, but in so noisy and careless a fashion that it was less trouble to Martha to undertake the job herself than to "clean up" after her. The older woman, in fact, soon got into the way of doing everything herself, and Mary, whom she had perhaps hoped to shame by such a course, merely laughed and said, "Please yo'rsel' an' you'll please me. I don't want to be bothered."

Mary, in fact, "wouldn't be talked to by nobody"; she came and went as she chose, and would just as soon see the house dirty as clean. It was this which Mrs. Lupton found most lacerating to her feelings. She wouldn't have minded the work so much, though it did seem a bit hard and unfair; but that Mary didn't appreciate the result of her labors-flesh and blood could scarce thooal that. She had mussed and crumpled her beautiful new coverlet till Martha, in high dudgeon, had removed it from her bed; she would have made the doormat a sight with mud and dirt if its owner had not prudently laid it by and replaced it with a piece of sacking, which was not only an eyesore, but a very inefficient protection to the floor. As for the way she rumpled the cushions, as Martha frequently lamented, "Hoo was war' nor any mon!"

It was true that the discomfort caused by Mary's presence only endured for a few hours out of the twenty-four; but even in her absence the time did not seem to pass very

pleasantly. What was the good of making the place clean when a body knew it would be all "mucked about" at nightfall? As for going on with the carpet, could Martha ever hope to put it down in that house? Often, as she sat stitching by herself with her back to the window, for the light hurt her eyes, she would find her thoughts wandering to the hours she had spent in the company of Moggy, who was always so pleasant spoke. How she had admired the patchwork, to be sure! She had taken thought on't and been proud on't. A body might say a word to Moggy without putting her into a fury. Moggy didn't snore o' neets, neither.

"I doubt I were a bit too 'ard on her," reflected Martha many a time. One day Mrs. Rimmer looked in. "I reckon you're 'appy now, Mrs. Lupton," she remarked. "Dear o' me, this is a nice little place, isn't it? I can never seem to settle so well next door. Well, ye've got it all your own way now, haven't ye?"

I

"Ah! I have," agreed Martha, without enthusiasm. "How's Moggy? think hoo met ha' taken the trouble to look in. 'Tis very ill done o' her to keep away all this time, arter her an' me lived together sich a many year."

"Eh! I reckon hoo thought you'd fancy her room more nor her company," retorted the other, with a laugh. "Hoo is but a poor owd dunderhead at best o' times."

"Onybody's better nor nobry, I reck

on."

The words had no sooner leaped out of Martha's lips than she repented of them; indeed, she stopped short with such a startled face as might have proved to a keen-witted observer that the sentiment they expressed was a kind of revelation to herself; but Mrs. Rimmer was not given to these niceties of observation, and merely clapped her hands with a crow of laughter.

"Eh dear!" she exclaimed; "that's summat new! I never thought to hear you say so."

"Eh, I nobbut meant to say," returned Martha, correcting herself with dignity, "'t 'ud nobbut be manners to coom and ax how I felt mysel', and how the change was agreein' wi'

me."

"Well, 'tisn't for want o' thinkin' on ye, then," returned the visitor. ""Tis

fair moiderin' the way hoo goes on about ye-wonderin' this and wonderin' that. Hoo hasn't mich to say at best o' times, but when hoo does oppen mouth hoo does nothin' but clack, clack about yoursel'. Hoo fair moiders me to death, whippin' up hearthrug if I so mich as set foot nigh 't. 'Mrs. Lupton wouldn't like onybody to tread on 't,' says hoo. 'I think we ought to take the same care on 't as Mrs. Lupton would hersel'.'"

Martha's face relaxed. "Hoo's a well-meanin' poor creatur'," she observed condescendingly; "very well meanin'. But hoo met ha' dropped in to see me as how 'tis."

"I'll tell her," said Mrs. Rimmer, adding with a grin, "How are ye gettin' on wi' Mary?"

"Well enough," returned Mrs. Lupton shortly.

"Hoo's pratty stiff-necked, isn't hoo?" went on the other, with a chuckle. "Ye'll noan find it so easy to sauce Mary as poor Moggy yon."

Mrs. Lupton threaded her needle with great precision and made no reply; and Mrs. Rimmer backed away towards the door with a sarcastic smile.

"Seems to me yo don't find yoursel' changed for the better," she remarked as she turned to cross the threshold, and was gone before Martha could respond.

Before the latter had had time to recover from her wrathful perturbation a hesitating tap came at the open door,

and Moggy's stooped form insinuated itself round it.

"I heerd you was axin' for me," she began, advancing timidly.

""Tis a wonder as ye let yoursel' be axed for," interrupted Mrs. Lupton with spirit. "You're a very great stranger, Moggy Gill."

"I was afeerd o' gettin' into your road," returned Moggy, so humbly that the other relented and smiled upon her quite affectionately.

"I'm fain to see ye as how 'tis," she said pleasantly. "You're lookin' very well."

""Tis more nor I can say for you, Mrs. Lupton," returned the visitor, who had been staring at her former companion with an expression of much concern. "Eh, dear, you're sadly warsened. Eh, that you are, my dear! Whatever ha' you been doin' to yoursel' ?"

"I dunno, I'm sure." replied Martha, thoughtfully pricking her face with her needle, "unless it's the hard work. Ye'd never think, Moggy, what work I have cleaning' up arter Mary. Hoo makes more dirt nor a mon, that hoo does," cried Martha energetically. "If our Dicky had made one-half the mess hoo does when he were wick I'd ha' taken besom to him."

"I doubt you would," agreed Moggy with conviction. "Well, but doesn't hoo do her share o' readyin' up th' place?"

"I'd sooner do it mysel'," replied Mrs. Lupton, lowering her voice. "Hoo does it so ill to begin wi', and hoo's got sich a tongue-I'm fair freetened of her. I tell you, Moggy, I'd sooner meet a boggart ony day, nor Mary in one of her tantrums."

Moggy sat aghast, feeling as though the earth were crumbling beneath her feet. Mrs. Lupton afeard!

"Well, but ye'll be killin' yoursel' this gate," she hazarded presently. "I'd reckon I'd best look in to-morrow mornin' and gie you a bit of a hand,

"I'm sorry to hear that," interrupted Mrs. Lupton severely, "I'm sorry to hear Mrs. Rimmer isn't particular. I doubt the place is but ill-done to, now, sin' I left it. I doubt I shouldn't know it again."

"Very like you wouldn't," agreed Moggy shamefacedly.

"Well," resumed Mrs. Lupton loftily, "'t'ud happen be just so well if you would look in to-morrow, Moggy-I could put you in the way o' things again—I reckon you'll be forgettin' all as I learnt ye wi' so mich trouble."

"Oh, no, I'll not forget, Mrs. Lupton," returned Moggy with an ingratiating smile, "I wouldn't be sich a ninny as to forget-but I'll coom as how 'tis. I could welly cry to see how wummicky you do look."

Come she did on the following morning, and to work she set, with as much good will and as little discrimination as ever. To Martha's credit be it said that she was quite tolerant of her shortcomings, and beyond an оссаsional "Well to be sure!" and "Did a body ever see the like!" when Moggy made a particularly stupid mistake, did not reprimand her at all.

Indeed, at the end of Moggy's labors, she showed such real pleasure and gratitude at the results that the little old woman was quite overcome.

"Don't name it, Mrs. Lupton, my dear," she cried, shaking her warmly by the hand, "'tis a real pleasure-eh, that it is. I'd think nothin' at all o' poppin' in every day to do the sameand I will too. Now do let's set out

doormat and tablecloth and all, same as in th' owd times. I can't abide to see th' place wi'out 'em."

Martha needed very little pressing to comply with this request, and smiled benignly as Moggy's admiration broke forth.

"Eh, dear, but it do look pratty! Our place, yon, dunnot look the same wi'out 'em. I can scarce fancy it is the same. I used to feel so proud lookin' about me of an arternoon when I was sat at my knittin'."

"Well then, if that's all," returned Martha condescendingly, "you'd be very welcome to come and set here at arter dinner, and bring your knittin' wi' you."

"I will," agreed Moggy joyfully; "dear, 'tis quite a while since I did any knittin'! Mrs. Rimmer, hoo don't seem to take to the needlework mich. I'll coom."

Well,

After dinner she reappeared accordingly, and for many subsequent days this mode of procedure continued. Mrs. Rimmer made no objection at first; but as day after day Moggy "popped next door to lend a hand to poor Mrs. Lupton," or "jest nipped in" for an hour or two with her knitting, she grew first sarcastic, and then indignant.

"I tell ye what it is," she cried, bursting in upon the pair one afternoon as they sat contentedly opposite each other, busy each with her own piece of work. "I tell ye what 'tis, ye'd ha' showed a deal more sense if ye hadn't axed me to change houses at all."

Martha looked up from her sewing in dignified surprise.

"Eh, dear, Mrs. Rimmer, you give me quite a turn!" she exclaimed.

"Turn!" echoed Mrs. Rimmer, folding her arms at her waist and inflating her nostrils. "Talk o' turns! Ye'd best turn out o' this and let me turn in again, I reckon."

Martha dropped her patchwork and gasped; Moggy looked up mildly.

"What is it as has vexed ye?" she inquired.

"Vexed!" retorted Mrs. Rimmer. "Well, I'm not to say vexed, but I'm a deal surprised-a deal I am. You, as couldn't put up wi' each other when you was together, now ye must be for ever callin' out for each other! I'm sure Mrs. Lupton sees a deal more o' you, Moggy, nor I do."

"Did ye want me, then?" inquired Moggy, rising with as much alacrity as the stiffness of her joints would allow.

"Nay," returned Mrs. Rimmer, in a somewhat mollified tone, "I don't want ye-not particular I don't; I only say there's no sense in't. If you howd so much to one another's coompany, why did ye give over livin' together? Why don't ye live together now?" she added with increasing vehemence. "Why don't ye change back, Mrs. Lupton?"

Martha and Moggy looked at each other, the same eager query in the eyes of both. Mrs. Rimmer intercepted the Longman's Magazine.

glance, and, being in the main a goodnatured woman, burst out laughing.

"Well, to be sure!" she cried as soon as she could speak. "Eh, dear! Well I never! Well, fetch back your things, Mrs. Lupton, and I'll fetch back mine."

"Are ye sure ye don't mind?" inquired Moggy politely.

"Mind? Why, not a bit, lass. I allus liked this house best, and I reckon I'll see jest as mich o' you as I do now. You'll be more like to mind arter a bit," she added feelingly.

"I can mak' mysel' very well content wi' Mrs. Lupton," asserted Moggy stoutly; "very well I can-her an' me was al'ays thick, and I-I don't know the reason on't, but I don't seem able to get into onybody else's ways."

As Mrs. Rimmer vanished, still laughing, Martha turned quickly to her old crony.

"Eh, thank ye for that word, Moggy. If you can content yoursel' wi' me I can do wi' you. Eh, that I can. I don't ax for no better company. I've missed ye awful."

M. E. Francis.

The sacrament