But it had been ever since a restless, unhappy thought below all other thoughts in Jane's mind, and finally she had swift personal whispers and slow boring suppositions which, if she had put them into words, would have sounded very like, "Lucy may be disappointed yet! John might have a son of his own.

Many things happen as the clock goes round." She was in one of these jealous moods on the morning after John had told her he must close the mill.

Then Mrs.Levy called, and asked if she would drive with her to Brent's Farm.

"We have received a large number of young children from Metwold," she said, "and I want to secure milk for them." "Brent's Farm!" replied Jane.

"I never heard of the place." "O my dear Mrs.Hatton, it is only a small farm on the Ripon road.