She must keep it under her clothes, and no one would see it.  But Hetty had another passion, only a little less strong than her love of finery, and that other passion made her like to wear the locket even hidden in her bosom.  She would always have worn it, if she had dared to encounter her aunt’s questions about a ribbon round her neck.  So now she slipped it on along her chain of dark-brown berries, and snapped the chain round her neck.  It was not a very long chain, only allowing the locket to hang a little way below the edge of her frock.  And now she had nothing to do but to put on her long sleeves, her new white gauze neckerchief, and her straw hat trimmed with white to-day instead of the pink, which had become rather faded under the July sun.  That hat made the drop of bitterness in Hetty’s cup to-day, for it was not quite new—­everybody would see that it was a little tanned against the white ribbon—­and Mary Burge, she felt sure, would have a new hat or bonnet on.  She looked for consolation at her fine white cotton stockings:  they really were very nice indeed, and she had given almost all her spare money for them.  Hetty’s dream of the future could not make her insensible to triumph in the present.  To be sure, Captain Donnithorne loved her so that he would never care about looking at other people, but then those other people didn’t know how he loved her, and she was not satisfied to appear shabby and insignificant in their eyes even for a short space.

The whole party was assembled in the house-place when Hetty went down, all of course in their Sunday clothes; and the bells had been ringing so this morning in honour of the captain’s twenty-first birthday, and the work had all been got done so early, that Marty and Tommy were not quite easy in their minds until their mother had assured them that going to church was not part of the day’s festivities.  Mr. Poyser had once suggested that the house should be shut up and left to take care of itself; “for,” said he, “there’s no danger of anybody’s breaking in—­everybody’ll be at the Chase, thieves an’ all.  If we lock th’ house up, all the men can go:  it’s a day they wonna see twice i’ their lives.”  But Mrs. Poyser answered with great decision:  “I never left the house to take care of itself since I was a missis, and I never will.  There’s been ill-looking tramps enoo’ about the place this last week, to carry off every ham an’ every spoon we’n got; and they all collogue together, them tramps, as it’s a mercy they hanna come and poisoned the dogs and murdered us all in our beds afore we knowed, some Friday night when we’n got the money in th’ house to pay the men.  And it’s like enough the tramps know where we’re going as well as we do oursens; for if Old Harry wants any work done, you may be sure he’ll find the means.”

“Nonsense about murdering us in our beds,” said Mr. Poyser; “I’ve got a gun i’ our room, hanna I? and thee’st got ears as ’ud find it out if a mouse was gnawing the bacon.  Howiver, if thee wouldstna be easy, Alick can stay at home i’ the forepart o’ the day, and Tim can come back tow’rds five o’clock, and let Alick have his turn.  They may let Growler loose if anybody offers to do mischief, and there’s Alick’s dog too, ready enough to set his tooth in a tramp if Alick gives him a wink.”