"Why, you're quite red in the face!" "Oh, yes, I need," said Tilda; "first-along, any'ow." She fell silent for a space.

"That Mortimer," she conceded, "isn' quite the ass that 'e looks.

This 'as got to take time, after all." She paused a moment in thought, and then broke out, "Oh, Arthur Miles, the trouble you're layin' on me--First, to be a mother--an' that's not 'ard.

But, on top o' that, lady!" "Why should you be a lady ?" he asked.
"Why ?" Tilda echoed almost bitterly.

"Oh, you needn' think I'll want to marry yer when all's done.