ou, by gad!" he cried with another laugh, when to my
confusion I felt my cheeks go warm.

And the truth of it is I had determined to pay a visit to Mr.
Allardyce on my way home, and the wish to cut a different figure
from that in which I had first appeared to the ladies of his family
had entered not a little into the consideration of my new garments.
Why do I say "the ladies"? Let me be honest and say 'twas Mistress
Lucy I had in my mind.

There was no question of tramping to Shrewsbury afoot. I took
passage to Bristowe in a coasting vessel, and there, after having a
chat with old Woodrow (who told me that his friend Captain Reddaway
had sworn to shew me a rope's end for deceiving him if I ever came
athwart his hawser), I booked a seat in the new diligence that ran
between Bristowe and Worcester, and there indulged myself in the
luxury of a postchaise for the journey to the Hall. And I warrant
you I was as proud as a peacock when the chaise swung in at the
gate, and rattled up the drive to the door.

'Twas Susan who opened it. She stared at me for a moment, then
burst out a-giggling, and left me standing while she rushed into
the house with a cry of "Measter, here be Joe come back, dressed
like a lord!"

"The deuce he is!" came the answering roar, and down came Mr.
Allardyce, pipe in hand, with his wife and Mistress Lucy close
behind him.

"How d'ye do, sir?" says I, advancing, feeling my face glow with
pleasure at seeing my kind friends again as much as any other
emotion, I am sure.

"Come back for a job, Joe?" cries Mr. Allardyce, gripping my hand
heartily. "Ah! you impostor! We know all about you, you young dog,
don't we, madam? Joe! Humph!"

"You can't shorten it like that, sir," said I, laughing, and giving
a hand to the ladies in turn.

And I don't know whether 'twas due to the suit of clothes, but
certainly I felt, as I shook hands with Mistress Lucy, none of the
shamefaced awkwardness that had overcome me when I stood before her
in rags and she called me "poor man."

They had me into the room where I had begged work of Mr. Allardyce,
and despatched Susan (still giggling) to bespeak a meal of Martha
the cook.

"And you must give an account of yourself, Mr. Bold," says Mr.
Allardyce, putting out a chair for me and pushing a pipe into my
hand.

"With all my heart, sir," said I, "but first will you please
enlighten me as to how you know my name?"

"Why we learned it a month after you left us," he