Holcroft's reference to a constable and arrest, though scarcely intended to be more than a vague threat, had the effect of clearing the air like a clap of thunder.  Jane had never lost her senses, such as she possessed, and Mrs. Wiggins recovered hers sufficiently to apologize to the farmer when he came down to breakfast. "But that Mumpson's hawfully haggravatin', master, as ye know yeself, hi'm a-thinkin'.  Vud ye jis tell a body vat she is 'here, han 'ow hi'm to get hon vith 'er.  Hif hi'm to take me horders from 'er, hi'd ruther go back to the poor-'us."

"You are to take your orders from me and no one else.  All I ask is that you go on quietly with your work and pay no attention to her.  You know well enough that I can't have such goings on.  I want you to let Jane help you and learn her to do everything as far as she can.  Mrs. Mumpson can do the mending and ironing, I suppose.  At any rate, I won't have any more quarreling and uproar.  I'm a quiet man and intend to have a quiet house.  You and Jane can get along very well in the kitchen, and you say you understand the dairy work."

"Vell hi does, han noo hi've got me horders hi'll go right along."

Mrs. Mumpson was like one who had been rudely shaken out of a dream, and she appeared to have sense enough to realize that she couldn't assume so much at first as she anticipated.  She received from Jane a cup of coffee, and said feebly, "I can partake of no more after the recent trying events."

For some hours she was a little dazed, but her mind was of too light weight to be long cast down.  Jane rehearsed Holcroft's words, described his manner, and sought with much insistence to show her mother that she must drop her nonsense at once. "I can see it in his eye," said the girl, "that he won't stand much more.  If yer don't come down and keep yer hands busy and yer tongue still, we'll tramp.  As to his marrying you, bah!  He'd jes' as soon marry Mrs. Wiggins."

This was awful prose, but Mrs. Mumpson was too bewildered and discouraged for a time to dispute it, and the household fell into a somewhat regular routine.  The widow appeared at her meals with the air of a meek and suffering martyr; Holcroft was exceedingly brief in his replies to her questions, and paid no heed to her remarks.  After supper and his evening work, he went directly to his room.  Every day, however, he secretly chafed with ever-increasing discontent, over this tormenting presence in his house.  The mending and such work as she attempted was so wretchedly performed that it would better have been left undone.  She was also recovering her garrulousness, and mistook his toleration and her immunity in the parlor for proof of a growing consideration. "He knows that my hands were never made for such coarse, menial tasks as that Viggins does," she thought, as she darned one of his stockings in a way that would render it almost impossible for him to put his foot into it again. "The events of last Monday morning were unfortunate, unforeseen, unprecedented.  I was unprepared for such vulgar, barbarous, unheard-of proceedings--taken off my feet, as it were; but now that he's had time to think it all over, he sees that I am not a common woman like Viggins,"--Mrs. Mumpson would have suffered rather than have accorded her enemy the prefix of Mrs.,--"who is only fit to be among pots and kettles.  He leaves me in the parlor as if a refined apartment became me and I became it.  Time and my influence will mellow, soften, elevate, develop, and at last awaken a desire for my society, then yearnings.  My first error was in not giving myself time to make a proper impression.  He will soon begin to yield like the earth without.  First it is hard and frosty, then it is cold and muddy, if I may permit myself so disagreeable an illustration.  Now he is becoming mellow, and soon every word I utter will be like good seed in good ground.  How aptly it all fits!  I have only to be patient."

She was finally left almost to utter idleness, for Jane and Mrs. Wiggins gradually took from the incompetent hands even the light tasks which she had attempted.  She made no protest, regarding all as another proof that Holcroft was beginning to recognize her superiority and unfitness for menial tasks.  She would maintain, however, her character as the caretaker and ostentatiously inspected everything; she also tried to make as much noise in fastening up the dwelling at night as if she were barricading a castle.  Holcroft would listen grimly, well aware that no house had been entered in Oakville during his memory.  He had taken an early occasion to say at the table that he wished no one to enter his room except Jane, and that he would not permit any infringement of this rule.  Mrs. Mumpson's feelings had been hurt at first by this order, but she soon satisfied herself that it had been meant for Mrs. Wiggins' benefit and not her own.  She found, however, that Jane interpreted it literally. "If either of you set foot in that room, I'll tell him," she said flatly. "I've had my orders and I'm a-goin' to obey.  There's to be no more rummagin'.  If you'll give me the keys I'll put things back in order ag'in."

"Well, I won't give you the keys.  I'm the proper person to put things in order if you did not replace them properly.  You are just making an excuse to rummage yourself.  My motive for inspecting is very different from yours."

"Shouldn't wonder if you was sorry some day," the girl had remarked, and so the matter had dropped and been forgotten.

Holcroft solaced himself with the fact that Jane and Mrs. Wiggins served his meals regularly and looked after the dairy with better care than it had received since his wife died. "If I had only those two in the house, I could get along first-rate," he thought. "After the three months are up, I'll try to make such an arrangement.  I'd pay the mother and send her off now, but if I did, Lemuel Weeks would put her up to a lawsuit."

April days brought the longed-for plowing and planting, and the farmer was so busy and absorbed in his work that Mrs. Mumpson had less and less place in his thoughts, even as a thorn in the flesh.  One bright afternoon, however, chaos came again unexpectedly.  Mrs. Wiggins did not suggest a volatile creature, yet such, alas! she was.  She apparently exhaled and was lost, leaving no trace.  The circumstances of her disappearance permit of a very matter-of-fact and not very creditable explanation.  On the day in question she prepared an unusually good dinner, and the farmer had enjoyed it in spite of Mrs. Mumpson's presence and desultory remarks.  The morning had been fine and he had made progress in his early spring work.  Mrs. Wiggins felt that her hour and opportunity had come.  Following him to the door, she said in a low tone and yet with a decisive accent, as if she was claiming a right, "Master, hi'd thank ye for me two weeks' wages."

He unsuspectingly and unhesitatingly gave it to her, thinking, "That's the way with such people.  They want to be paid often and be sure of their money.  She'll work all the better for having it."

Mrs. Wiggins knew the hour when the stage passed the house; she had made up a bundle without a very close regard to meum or tuum, and was ready to flit.  The chance speedily came.

The "caretaker" was rocking in the parlor and would disdain to look, while Jane had gone out to help plant some early potatoes on a warm hillside.  The coast was clear.  Seeing the stage coming, the old woman waddled down the lane at a remarkable pace, paid her fare to town, and the Holcroft kitchen knew her no more.

That she found the "friend" she had wished to see on her way out to the farm, and that this friend brought her quickly under Tom Watterly's care again, goes without saying.

As the shadows lengthened and the robins became tuneful, Holcroft said, "You've done well, Jane.  Thank you. ............