"Her man's going to have her at last; that's his baby she's got, you know; and it seems he'll sooner make her work for keeping it, than pay for it hisself.

So they're going to be married; better late than never." George left her and went in; into the gloomy old kitchen, now darkening rapidly.

There sat Madge before the fire, in her favourite attitude, with her chin on her hand and her elbow on her knee.
"Well, old woman," said he, "where's the old man ?" "Away to Colyton fair," she answered.
"I hope he'll have the sense to stay there to-night, then," said George.

"He'll fall off his horse in a fit coming home drunk some of these nights, and be found dead in a ditch!" "Good thing for you if he was!" "May be," said George; "but I'd be sorry for him, too!" "You would," she said laughing.

"Why, you young fool, you'd be better off in fifty ways!" "Why, you unnatural old vixen," said he indignantly, "do you miscall a man for caring for his own father?
Aye, and not such a bad 'un either; and that's a thing I'm best judge of!" "He's been a good father to you, George, and I like you the better, lad, for speaking up for him.