The girl looked to her stepmother; and the stepmother answered for her.
"It's o'er-early for bed yet--she's goin' for an hour to Shepperd's, John. Go on, Bess, but don't stay too long."
The girl snatched her shawl and hurried out.
"And is't so you manage her, woman?"
"Let be, man, let be. She's no child to be managed--your way o' managin'. Why shouldn't she have her little pleasure? What's one here for? Prayers an' psalms, prayers an' psalms----"
"An' do you rail against the prayin'?"
"Not me. Prayin's for good, no doubt; but all of us hasn't the sin so black that it needs prayin' night an' day to burn it out."
He glared at her. "An' you're waitin' up for her?"
"I am."
"Some night you'll wait o'er-long, woman."
"No, no. She's young, is Bess, and a bit soft. But no bad--no, no, no
