The day before Christmas, he was busy all morning under Jane's garrulous
command, getting in bunches of holly and other evergreens from the
hedgerows. His last journey had been to one of the farms on the Upper
Hanyards in quest of mistletoe, which grew abundantly there in an ancient
orchard. On getting back he had held a sprig over Jane's head for a
certain familiar and laudable purpose, and had been rewarded with a smack
that sounded like the dropping of an empty milk-pail. A little later I
found him glowering in a cowhouse, and had it out with him.
"Look here, Joe, my lad," said I, "tell me straight what's the matter
with you or I'll break your head."
"What d'ye want to come back 'ere for, upsettin' Jin like this'n?" he
blurted.
"What the blazes have I done to upset Jin?" I asked.
"Why didna y' bring 'er back wi' ye, then?"
"Who's her, you jolt-head?" I demanded angrily.
"That leddy o' yourn. Jin's that upset 'er wunna luk at me, an' we wor
gettin' on fine."
It was no use talking to Joe. I explained that she was a great lady and
was to marry a marquess, that is a much more important person than an
earl.
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