She adopted Kit's word of Lord Fleetwood. 'A black nobleman he is! he
is!' Her mistress had written like a creature begging him for money. He
did not deign a reply. To her! When he had seen good proof she was
the bravest woman on earth; and she rushed at death to save a child, a
common child; as people say. And who knows but she saved that husband of
hers, too, from bites might have sent him out of the world barking, and
all his wealth not able to stop him!

They were in the month of March. Her dear mistress had been begging my
lord through Mr. Woodseer constantly of late for an allowance of money;
on her knees to him, as it seemed; and Mr. Woodseer was expected at
Esslemont. Her mistress was looking for him eagerly. Something her heart
was in depended on it, and only her brother could be the object, for
now she loved only him of these men; though a gentleman coming over from
Barlings pretty often would pour mines of money into her lap for half a
word.

Carinthia had walked up to Croridge in the morning to meet her brother
at Lekkatts. Madge was left guardian of the child. She liked a stroll
any day round Esslemont Park, where her mistress was beginning to strike
roots; as she soon did wherever she was planted, despite a tone of pity
for artificial waters and gardeners' arts. Madge respected them. She
knew nothing of the grandeur of wildness. Her native English veneration
for the smoothing hand of wealth led her to think Esslemont the home of
all homes for a lady with her husband beside her. And without him, too,
if he were wafted over seas and away: if there would but come a wind to
do that!

The wild North-easter tore the budded beeches. Master John Edward
Russett lay in the cradling-basket drawn by his docile donkey, Martha
and Madge to right and left of him; a speechless rustic, graduating in
footman's livery, to rear.

At slow march round by the wrinkled water, Madge saw the park gates
flung wide. A coach drove up the road along on the farther rim of the
circle, direct for the house. It stopped, the team turned leisurely
and came at a smart pace toward the carriage-basket. Lord Fleetwood was
recognized.

He alighted, bidding one of his grooms drive to stables. Madge performed
her reverence, aware that she did it in clumsy style; his presence had
startled her instincts and set them travelling.

'Coldish for the youngster,' he said. 'All well, Madge?'

'Baby sleeps in the air, my lord,' she replied. 'My lady