with my looker."

"Your looker?--No, Miss Joanna."

"What d'you mean?"

"I don't know what _you_ mean, miss--I've never had näun to do wud Dick
Socknersh if it's him you're thinking of."

"Not Socknersh, but I ... who _is_ the man, then?"

"Well, it äun't no secret from anyone but you, Miss Joanna, so I döan't
mind telling you as my boy is Peter Relf, their looker at Old
Honeychild. We've bin walking out ever sinst the day he came after your
pläace as looker here, and we'd be married now if he hadn't his old
mother and dad to keep, and got into some nasty silly trouble wud them
fellers wot put money on horses they've never seen.... He döan't get
more'n fifteen bob a week at Honeychild, and he can't keep the old folk
on less than eight, them being always filling themselves with doctor's
stuff...."

Joanna was not listening to her--she sat amazed and pale, her heart
beating in heavy thuds of relief. Mixed with her happiness there was a
little shame, for she saw that the mistake had arisen from her putting
herself too realistically in Martha's place. Why had she jumped to the
conclusion that the girl's lover was Socknersh? It is true that he had
danced with her very often at the Christmas party nine months ago, and
once since then she had scolded him for telling the chicken-woman some
news he ought first to have told the mistress ... but that was very
little in the way of evidence, and Martha had always been running after