into the shop to say that his master was in the carriage. Sir William
had sent his horse home, and would return in the chariot with his lady.
She hastened away, to prevent any chat between Sir William and Mr
Jones. But, once in the carriage, in all the glory of being surrounded
and watched by a number of gaping clowns and shouting boys, she could
not resolve to bury herself in the seclusion of the Hall, without
enjoying the bustle a little longer. She therefore suddenly discovered
that she wanted to order a morning cap at Miss Nares'; and the carriage
drew up in state before the milliner's door. Miss Flint, whose hair had
come out of curl, from her having leaned out of an upper window to watch
the commotion, now flew to the glass to pull off her curl-papers; Miss
Nares herself hastily drew out of drawers and cupboards the smart things
which had been huddled away under the alarm about the sacking of
Deerbrook; and then threw a silk handkerchief over the tray, on which
stood the elder wine and toast with which she and her assistant had been
comforting themselves after the panic of the morning. All the caps were
tried on with mysterious melancholy, but with some haste. Sir William
must not be kept long waiting: in times like these, a magistrate's
moments were valuable. Sir William was reading the newspaper, in order
to convey the impression that he considered the affair of this morning a
trifling one; but--

"These are strange times, Miss Nares."

"Very alarming, my lady. I am sure I don't know when we shall recover
from the fright. And no further back than six weeks, I had that person
in, my lady, to attend Miss Flint in a sore throat. So little were we
aware!"

"I am thankful enough it was not for a broken arm," observed Miss Flint,
in accents of devout gratitude.

"Yes, indeed, my dear," observed Miss Nares, "it would have ruined all
your prospects in life if he had done by you as he did by the Russell
Taylors' nursemaid. Have you never heard that, my lady? Well! I am
astonished! I find the story is in everybody's mouth. Mrs Russell
Taylor's nursemaid was crossing the court, with the baby in her arms,
when she tripped over the string of Master Hampden Taylor's kite. Well,
my lady, she fell; and her first thought, you know, was to save the
baby; so she let all her weight go on the other arm--the right--and, as
you may suppose, broke it. It snapped below the elbow. The gentleman
in the corner-house w