“Put it in the summer-house, Mrs. Smith,” he said.

The fair-haired, good-looking young woman went out.

“Is she married and in service?” asked Ursula.

“She is a widow. Her husband died of consumption a little while ago.” Brangwen gave a sinister little laugh. “He lay there in the house-place at her mother's, and five or six other people in the house, and died very gradually. I asked her if his death wasn't a great trouble to her. 'Well,' she said, 'he was very fretful towards the last, never satisfied, never easy, always fret-fretting, an' never knowing what would satisfy him.

So in one way it was a relief when it was over — for him and for everybody.' They had only been