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124 Mrs. Sharland looked at her with a puzzled face. She never had understood Mehalah, and she was content to be in the dark as to what was passing in her breast now. She settled back in her chair, and turned back to the thoughts of Charles Pettican's gilt balcony and petticoated dressing-table . By degrees Mehalah recovered her composure, then she went up to her mother and kissed her passionately on the brow. "Mother dear," she said in a broken voice, "I never, never will desert you. Whatever happens, our lot shall be cast together." Then she reared herself, and in a moment was firm of foot, erect of carriage, rough and imperious as of old. "I must look after the sheep on the saltings," she said. "Abraham's head is turned with the doings here to-day, and he has gone to the Rose to talk and drink it over. The moon is full, and we shall have a high tide."

Next moment Mrs. Sharland was alone. The widow heaved a sigh. "There is no making heads or tails of that girl, I don't understand her a bit," she muttered. "I do though," answered Elijah Rebow at the door. "I want a word with you, mistress." "I thought you had gone, Elijah, after the sale." "No, I did not leave with the rest. I hung about in the marshes, waiting a chance when I might speak with you by yourself. I can't speak before Glory; she flies out." "Come in, master, and sit down. Mehalah is gone down to the saltings, and will not be back for an hour." "I must have a word with you. Where has Glory been? I saw her go off t'other day in gay Sunday dress towards Fingringhoe. What did she go after?" Mrs. Sharland raised herself proudly. "I have a cousin lives at Wyvenhoe, and we exchange civilities now and then. I can't go to him and he can't come to me, so Mehalah passes between us." "What does she go there for?"

"My cousin, Mr. Charles Pettican—I dare say you have heard the name, it is a name that is honoured at the bank" she paused and pursed up her lips.