"Oh, certainly. Come through into the shop." He
turned on the light. "I do not ask you into the
parlour, for the simple reason that I have some one
there who has come to see me on business -- it is business
about one of my little mortgages. Polly is out,
up at the Deanery. Her sister is not going to stay
on there; she has found some excuse to go away. It
makes her so sad and mopish to be always with Miss
Haworth. Even now, after all this time, the young
lady will hardly speak at all. She does not glory in
her loss, as a German betrothed would do!"

"Poor thing!" said old Anna feelingly. "Women
are not like men, Herr Hegner. They have tender
hearts. She thinks of her dead lover as her beloved
one -- not as a hero. For my part, my heart aches
for the dear young lady, when I see her walking about,
all dressed in black."

They were now standing in the big empty shop.
Alfred Head turned to the right and took off a generous
half-pound from the Parmesan cheese which, as
Anna knew well, was of a very much better quality, if
of rather higher price, than were any of the other Parmesan
cheeses sold in Witanbury. But she was rather
shocked to note that the butter had not been put away
in the refrigerator. That, of course, was Mrs. Head's
fault. A German housewife would have seen to that.
There the butter lay, ready for the next morning's sale,
put up in half-pounds and pounds. Mr. Head took
up one of the pounds, and deftly began making a neat
parcel of the cheese and of the butter. She felt that
he was in a hurry to get rid of her, and yet she was
burning to show him young Mr. Blake's letter.

She coughed, and then, a little nervously, she ob-

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