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“My God!” said the poor father, and he brought his hand down on the plough-handle with a force that made the mild horses start, “My God! I wish I had en here—I’d smash en!”

“An’ that’s not all,” went on Mrs. Frizzell, in a choked voice; “there’s a little ’un upon the road—our daughter ’ull be disgraced afore the whole parish.”

“Disgraced!” cried John, his honest face as red as it had before been pale, “who says disgraced! ’Tain’t no fault o’ the poor child’s! She’ve a-been deceived and used cruel hard. Nobody ’ull not have a word to say against her.”

“Won’t they, though!” retorted his wife, who, though as sore at heart as he, thought it necessary to assume an aggressive tone. “Who do you suppose ’ull ever believe as the girl ’ud be so simple as to be took in and think herself married when she warn’t married? They don’t believe it in Darchester, I can tell ’ee. There, they’ve a-gone and sent her away from her situation; and Julia—why I can see as my own cousin Julia don’t half believe her story—she’ve wrote to say she ’opes I’ll come and take her away at once, as she don’t like her for to be comin’ to the house.”