The aspect of things was changed there since the early morning. The brass handle of the door was polished and bright, the steps clean, and Jack's pull at the bell and rap at the door was answered by Sam, in neat livery, who conducted him immediately to a pleasant parlour where Mrs Lambert was sitting; an old lady of a past time, her grey curls fastened back from her forehead by two combs, surmounted by a large cap something between a turban and a mob. Her black paduasoy gown, full at the waist and only touching her ankles, was covered with a spotless white apron with deep pockets.

Over the low bodice of her dress Mrs Lambert wore a thick white kerchief, fastened close to the throat by a gold pin. On her arms she wore thick mittens, which reached the elbow of her short sleeves, and on her thin but shapely fingers she wore two or three handsome rings.

Jack made his best bow, and advanced to Mrs Lambert's chair, unhappily treading as he did so on the paw of a tabby cat, who resisted the indignity by a very prolonged yell and an angry spit at her enemy.

'Poor puss,' said her mistress. 'I expect, sir, your foot is no light weight. I believe you brought me this letter,' laying her hand on the precious document, which was placed on a little table by her side.

Jack murmured an assent.

'I have been much troubled by the loss of servants of late. One made a foolish match, the other died--both old servants. I have made efforts to replace them, and have failed. Is this young woman known to you, sir?'

'Well known, madam, but--' Jack paused. 'She isn't a servant. I believe she is a relative of yours.'

Mrs Lambert gave a little incredulous laugh.

'I see she subscribes herself as my cousin, but this is a _very_ distant connection. However, it is a pretty note, take it altogether, and she speaks of trouble at home--her father in money difficulty. I showed my son the letter, and from all he can make out the sum borrowed will have to be repaid. He will speak more of that hereafter, but I will send my answer to Miss Palmer's request. Writing is difficult to me, for my fingers are a little stiff with rheumatism, therefore I am glad to spare them. First, are you the accepted lover of Miss Palmer?'

Again poor Jack felt the hot blushes rise to his face, again he shrank from the rough touch of the secret in his heart which he held sacred.

'Because,' Mrs Lambert continued, 'I do not permit sweethearts in the house. It is on this ground that I have dismissed several young serving-maids and depend on the services of Mrs Symes. I don't quite know what your views may be about Miss Palmer, but as I hear you are apprenticed in Bristol to a respectable goldsmith I should wish to make it plain that I can have no gallivanting or--'

'Madam,' Jack said, interrupting this long speech,' I have known Miss Bryda Palmer all my life. I am anxious to serve her, but I am not her accepted suitor.' Then, rising to his full height, Jack asked, 'What are your commands, madam? What answer am I to take to Miss Palmer?'

'I will take her on trial, and give a wage, say ten pounds per annum.

This is only an arrangement, as I say, on trial, to be broken by either party at a month's not a quarter's notice.'

'Miss Palmer will come next Monday,' Jack said. Then, his voice faltering, he went on with some hesitation. 'She has been much cared for and--and loved. I hope you will be good to her, and remember she has never been used to hard words.'

'She has been very fortunate, then; but I think, sir, you forget yourself when you remind me of my duty. Good-day.'

Jack bowed, or rather ducked his head, which nearly reached the thick oak beam across the ceiling of the parlour, and as he was leaving the room, Mrs Lambert said,--

'Will you take a cup of cider before you leave, sir?'

'No, I am obliged to you. I have dined, and must hasten homewards.'

And then Jack, inwardly conscious that he had been but a poor ambassador, departed on his way to scale those heights which rise above Bristol in a straight unbroken line, where the tower of Dundry stands out against the sky.

Jack plodded on. His stalwart frame knew little of fatigue, and he was not nearly as tired, when at last Bishop's Farm came in sight, as he often felt when sitting with his long legs tucked under him on the high stool in his uncle's workshop in Corn Street. When he reached the gate of the farmyard he paused and determined to go round by the lane, and then pass through the orchard to the house if he did not, as he hoped, find Bryda on her favourite seat on the rough bit of limestone which cropped out of the turf.

The sound of his steps brought Flick to inspect him. Flick was satisfied, for he gave a low whine of welcome and rubbed his nose against Jack's hand.

At the gate of the orchard Jack saw two figures--Bryda's and a man's; the man, with a liver-and-white pointer at his feet, leaning against the gate in an easy attitude; Bryda, on the other side, with her face flushed, and a look in her eyes like a frightened fawn.

Jack strode up to the gate, and said in a rough tone,--

'Let me pass, sir. I have business with Miss Bryda.'

'So have I, sir, and I will despatch it, by your leave, without your interference.'

Jack put his hand on the gate and pushed it towards Bryda, but a hand, apparently as strong as his, pulled it back, with an oath.

'Wait one minute, Jack, wait till this gentleman is gone. He is speaking to me about--about--'

Poor Bryda's voice broke down, and she hid her face in her hands.

'If _you_ wish it I _will_ wait,' Jack said. 'Do you wish me to wait?'

A faint 'Yes' was the reply.

'Then I'll wait,' Jack said, but, glancing at the Squire, he added, 'If it were not for this wish of Miss Palmer's, sir, I would _not_ wait your pleasure; but her word is law to me. If it weren't,' he muttered, 'I'd knock you down.'

An ironical laugh, with the words, 'Come, sir, be off!' was the only rejoinder, and then Jack strode away out of sight.

'Will that big sulky fellow eavesdrop?' he heard as he was departing, and the question was not likely to allay his wrath.

The conversation lasted for more minutes than Jack's patience held out, and he fumed and chafed at the indignity passed on him.

'To be warned off by a brute like that!' he murmured. 'What right has he to do it?'

Presently Betty's face appeared above the low wall which skirted the farmyard.

'Oh! Jack,' she exclaimed, 'Bryda has been talking to the young Squire ever so long. She sent me away. I do so wish she would come. It is all about that money and grandfather; but I don't like her to be alone with that man; he has a bad face. She has got Flick, but still I wish she would come.'

'Hang it all!' Jack said, 'I won't stand this another minute,' and he retraced his steps up the lane, reaching the down just as the Squire, with a pointer at his heels, was bowing low and waving his hand in farewell to Bryda.

Jack was at her side in an instant.

'What does that fellow want?'

Bryda had recovered her self-possession.

'He has promised to stay proceedings against grandfather for a month,'

and the swift colour came to her face, and then vanishing, left it pale as death.

'What has he been saying to you?' Jack demanded, almost fiercely. 'Has he been frightening you to death--it looks like it.'

'Don't be angry, Jack; you should be glad. I have got a month's respite.

I am tired, that is all. Come in to supper; Betty is sure to have something good to-night to try and tempt grandfather.'

Jack was wondering when Bryda would ask what had been the result of his journey to Bristol. He had walked some twenty miles in her service, and yet she asked no questions about the letter.

'I have been to Bristol,' he began, 'and delivered your letter. Don't you want to know what Madam Lambert said?'

'Oh, my letter! Yes--will she have me?' But Bryda did not seem eager for an answer.

'Yes, you can ride with me on Monday in the cart, and I will put you down at number six Dowry Square. Madam will give you ten pounds a year, and you will get a lot of books--I saw shelves full in the parlour--and you will see all the fine folks at the pump-room, and hear the band play. Won't you like that--eh, Bryda?'

'Oh, yes, of course I shall. I thank you, Jack, for taking all this trouble for me.'