They'll be sittin' up to-night, bein' Christmas time.

Good-night, William!" She moved to go; but, recollecting herself, turned at the door, and, stepping up to the bed, bent and kissed the dead man's forehead.
Then she was gone.
It was the woman who broke the silence that followed with a base speech.
"Well! To think she'd lose her head like that when she found you wasn't to be had!" "Shut up!" said William savagely; "an' listen to this: If you was to die to-night I'd marry 'Lizabeth next week." Time passed.

The old man was buried, and Mr.and Mrs.Transom took possession at Compton Burrows and reigned in his stead.

'Lizabeth dwelt a mile or so down the valley with the Hoopers, who, as she had said, were thankful enough to get her services, for Mrs.Hooper was well up in years, and gladly resigned the dairy work to a girl who, as she told her husband, was of good haveage, and worth her keep a dozen times over.
So 'Lizabeth had settled down in her new home, and closed her heart and shut its clasps tight.
She never met William to speak to.

Now and then she caught sight of him as he rode past on horseback, on his way to market or to the "Compton Arms," where he spent more time and money than was good for him.