She was sitting by the window, reading her Bible, when he went in.
She gave him a curt welcome, hearty enough for her, for she was
always chary in her expressions of pleasure or satisfaction. But she
took off her horn spectacles and placed them in the book to keep her
place; and then turning more fully round on her chair, so as to face
him, she said,-'Well, lad! and how does it go on? Though it's not a day for t' ask
about worldly things. But I niver see thee now but on Sabbath day,
and rarely then. Still we munnot speak o' such things on t' Lord's
day. So thee mun just say how t' shop is doing, and then we'll leave
such vain talk.' 'T' shop is doing main an' well, thank ye, mother. But Coulson could
tell yo' o' that any day.' 'I'd a deal rayther hear fra' thee, Philip. Coulson doesn't know how
t' manage his own business, let alone half the business as it took
John and Jeremiah's heads--ay, and tasked 'em, too--to manage. I've
no patience with Coulson.' 'Why? he's a decent young fellow as ever there is in Monkshaven.' 'He may be. He's noane cut his wisdom-teeth yet. But, for that
matter, there's other folks as far fra' sense as he is.' 'Ay, and farther. Coulson mayn't be so bright at all times as he
might be, but he's a steady-goer, and I'd back him again' any chap
o' his age i' Monkshaven.' 'I know who I'd sooner back in many a thing, Philip!' She said it
with so much meaning that he could not fail to understand that he
himself was meant, and he replied, ingenuously enough,-'If yo' mean me, mother, I'll noane deny that in a thing or two I
may be more knowledgeable than Coulson. I've had a deal o' time on
my hands i' my youth, and I'd good schooling as long as father
lived.' 'Lad! it's not schooling, nor knowledge, nor book-learning as
carries a man through t' world. It's mother-wit. And it's noane
schooling, nor knowledge, nor book-learning as takes a young woman.
It's summat as cannot be put into words.' 'That's just what I told Coulson!' said Philip, quickly. 'He were
sore put about because Hester had gi'en him the bucket, and came to
me about it.' 'And what did thou say?' asked Alice, her deep eyes gleaming at him
as if to read his face as well as his words. Philip, thinking he
could now do what Coulson had begged of him in the neatest manner,
went on,-'I told him I'd help him all as I could---' 'Thou did, did thou? Well, well, there's nought sa queer as folks,
that a will say,' muttered Alice, between her teeth.