m to speak.

"I am very sorry for the poor fellow," he said; "it seems so sad, but it
is no more than I expected."

Mary turned white and cold.

"You don't know where he has gone, Mr Ellis?"

"No," said the bailiff shortly.

"No; I thought you said so. Poor chap! I did everything I could to
make matters easy for him, and selected little jobs that I thought he
could do; but, of course, he would not take to them happily. He felt it
hard to have to take his orders from me, and very naturally, for he
expected to be head-gardener, and would have been, eh, Mr Ellis?"

"Yes," grunted the bailiff.

"To be sure he would. I'm not such a donkey as to suppose I should have
got the place if he had been all right. I'm a good gardener, though I
say it as shouldn't say it, Miss Mary; but there were lots of little
dodges about flowers where he could beat me hollow. Ha, ha, ha!" he
laughed, "I wouldn't say that before the men, but I don't mind here."

"Is Mr Grange bad again?" asked Mrs Ellis, unable to restrain her
curiosity.

"Bad, ma'am? Well, of course he's bad; but no worse than usual. You
know, I suppose, that he's gone away?"

"I? No."

"Oh, yes, quite mysterious like; never said good-bye to a soul."

"But me," thought Mary, with a sensation as of something clutching her
heart, as she recalled that night at her bedroom window.

"Yes, poor fellow, he's gone," said Ellis, who felt that it was time to
speak.

"Of course I know why," said Barnett, "it was too much for him. He was
fretting his heart out, poor chap, and he no doubt thought it was the
best he could do--get right away you know, where he wasn't known, and
where everything he saw--I mean everything he touched--didn't remind him
of the old place. It's all very sad, and it used to make me feel
uncomfortable, and keep away for fear of making him think of my
superseding him; but there, we're all like plants and flowers, Miss
Mary, and suffer from our blights and east winds."

He looked across at Mary, whose face was stony, and her eyes fixed upon
him so strangely that he felt abashed, and turned to Mrs Ellis.

"Sad business, ma'am, from the beginning," he said; "but, as the saying
is, we don't know, and perhaps it's all for the best."

Mrs Ellis sighed, the supper was at an end; and to the great relief of
all, Barnett rose, and in a tone of voice which suggested that every one
had been pressing him very hard to stay longer, he cried--

"Well, r