Niver,' she added, with bitterness, as the words he had used recurred to her mind.
'It's in me to hate thee now, for saying what thou did; but thou're dear old Kester after all, and I can't help mysel', I mun needs forgive thee,' and she went towards him.

He took her little head between his horny hands and kissed it.

She looked up with tears in her eyes, saying softly,-- 'Niver say things like them again.

Niver speak on----' 'A'll bite my tongue off first,' he interrupted.
He kept his word.
In all Philip's comings and goings to and from Haytersbank Farm at this time, he never spoke again of his love.

In look, words, manner, he was like a thoughtful, tender brother; nothing more.