"I'm afraid you are not very strong."
"No," said the girl, nor never will be."
"Spring is coming," said Margaret, as if to suggest pleasant, hopeful thoughts.
"Spring nor summer will do me good," said the girl quietly.
Margaret looked up at the man, almost expecting some contradiction from him, or at least some remark that would modify his daughter's utter hopelessness. But, instead, he added—
"I'm afeared hoo speaks truth. I'm afeared hoo's too far gone in a waste."
"I shall have a spring where I'm boun to, and flowers, and amaranths, and shining robes besides."
"Poor lass, poor lass!" said her father in a low tone. "I'm none so sure o' that; but it's a comfort to thee, poor lass, poor lass. Poor father! it'll be soon."
Margaret was shocked by his words-shocked but not repelled; rather attracted and interested.
"Where do you live? I think we must be neighbours, we meet so often on this road."
"We put up at nine Frances Street, second turn to th' left at after yo've past th' Goulden Dragon."
"And your name? I must not forget that."
"I'm none ashamed o' my name. It's Nicholas Higgins. Hoo's called Bessy Higgins. Whatten yo' asking for?"
Margaret was surprised at this last question, for at Helstone it would have been an understood thing, after the inquiries she had made, that she intended to come and call upon any poor neighbour whose name and habitation she had asked for.
