The sight of the gaunt embarrassed man opposite to her, his face burning red, and his clumsy hands twisting and untwisting as he uttered his persuasive sentences, drove her sadness away for the moment.
Her pleasant, surprised laugh made him laugh too.
"Ay! mother was right; she always is," said Nixey, rubbing his great hands gleefully.

"'There'll be scores of lads after her,' says mother, 'for old Marlowe has piles o' money in Sefton's Old Bank, everybody knows that.' But, Phebe, there aren't a many houses like mine for you to step right into.

I'm glad I came to bring you comfort to-night." "But father lost all his money in the Old Bank nine months ago," answered Phebe.
"Lost all his money!" repeated Nixey slowly and emphatically.

There was a deep silence in the little house, while he gazed at her with open mouth and astonished eyes.

Phebe had covered her face with her hands, forgetting him and everything else in the recollection of that bitter sorrow of hers nine months ago; worse than her sorrow now.