This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1914 edition. Excerpt: ...come to the vicarage at once," the note read, "on account of her husband who is there." Eliza told the girl that she would come directly. Then she went upstairs and hunted about for the red stuff that she pinned to her hat on state occasions, and for her white cotton gloves and her umbrella and her brooch. "'E must a-drunk the 'ole 'arf-crown," she thought, "and 'oo stood 'im the rest, I wonder." She sauntered off to the vicarage, enjoying the fresh air and the sights and sounds of life. "Bless me, things do seem changed," she thought, for the faces of all the people looked cheerful. "'Oo 'd a-thought it this time yesterday. Pity we 'aven't been more churchy; the vicar, p'r'aps 'e 'd a-spoke for Matt before the magistrates. Miss Patterman! Going to Sunday-school, I suppose. Can't think 'ow she wears such 'ats. Let me see, the vicar's called Trevanion. 'Andsome, 'e is. Styles, Bentley, 'Arrison, Trevanion; 'ow they come and go. There 's the little dog Matt sold to the police, and drunk seven and sixpence off it." She rang the bell at the vicarage door and told the parlour-maid that she was Mrs. Blood. "Wonders never cease," she thought, when she had been taken to the drawing-room and left alone. "Well, this is a fine room. P'r'aps it's where Mr. Styles died of 'is 'eart. I 'll sit down. Why shouldn't I? 'Ow this 'at droops! I 'd keep a better fire in the 'earth if I 'd their money. Spend it on their pictures, I suppose. All Bible ones. Bless me, they are peculiar. I 'll lean back in this chair. Why shouldn't I? Oh, there goes my 'at!" While she was correcting the angle of her hat with the aid of a religious picture that served as a mirror, the parlour-maid returned...