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 never enjoyed it. Nanny understanding this, and remembering that they looked to Mally for a pitcher of hot ale every Thomas's Day, gave the signal for departure. Hepworth followed her to the door with the money for which they had walked so far. Old Nanny clutched the hand which held it out to her.

"Mestur," quoth she, with an air of mysterious import, "you mun tak' my advice about bein' wed. You mon't mind me, an owd woman 'at nursed you. Now, there's a fine young woman there"—she nodded her poke-bonnet in Elisabeth's direction—"why not wed her? Tak' my advice, mestur—owd folk knows more nor young uns."

Hepworth went back to his parlour and watched the three old women plodding through the snow that lay thick in the paddock. He was half inclined to be angry that people should so constantly give him advice as to his future; but Nanny's counsel, sly and good-humoured, seemed to fit with his present