ure, Bellew
thought, who, upon his entrance, bent her head to draw on her driving
gloves, for she was waiting for the dog-cart which was to bear her, and
Small Porges to Cranbrook, far away from the hollow tap of the
auctioneer's hammer.

"We're getting rid of some of the old furniture, you see, Mr. Bellew,"
she said, laying her hand on an antique cabinet nearby,--"we really have
much more than we ever use."

"Yes," said Bellew. But he noticed that her eyes were very dark and
wistful, despite her light tone, and that she had laid her hand upon the
old cabinet with a touch very like a caress.

"Why is that man's nose so awful' red, and his chin so blue, Auntie
Anthea?" enquired Small Porges, in a hissing stage whisper.

"Hush Georgy!--I don't know," said Anthea.

"An' why is he sticking his little numbers all over our best furniture!"

"That is to guide the auctioneer."

"Where to,--an' what is an auctioneer?"

But, at this moment, hearing the wheels of the dog-cart at the door,
Anthea turned, and hastened out into the sunshine.

"A lovely day it do be for drivin'," said Adam touching his hat, "an'
Bess be thinkin' the same, I do believe!" and he patted the glossy coat
of the mare, who arched her neck, and pawed the gravel with an impatient
hoof. Lightly, and nimbly Anthea swung herself up to the high seat,
turning to make Small Porges secure beside her, as Bellew handed him up.

"You'll--look after things for me, Adam?" said Anthea, glancing back
wistfully into the dim recesses of the cool, old hall.

"Aye,--I will that, Miss Anthea!"

"Mr. Bellew, we can find room for you if you care to come with us?"

"Thanks," said he, shaking his head, "but I rather think I'll stay here,
and--er--help Adam to--to--look after things, if you don't mind."

"Then,--'Good-bye!'" said Anthea, and, nodding to Adam, he gave the mare
her head, and off they went.

"Good-bye!" cried Small Porges, "an' thank you for the shilling Uncle
Porges."

"The mare is--er--rather fresh this morning, isn't she, Adam?" enquired
Bellew, watching the dog-cart's rapid course.

"Fresh sir?"

"And that's rather a--er--dangerous sort of thing for a woman to drive,
isn't it?"

"Meanin' the dog-cart, sir?"

"Meaning the dog-cart, Adam."

"Why, Lord love ye, Mr. Belloo sir!" cried Adam with his great laugh,
"there ain't nobody can 'andle the ribbons better than Miss
Anthea,--there ain't a horse as she can't drive,--ah! or ride, for that
m