d than done. A good many of its families had been allowed to
get on Peckaby's books, and they also found that Roy set his face
against their leaving the shop. For Roy to set his face against a
measure was a formidable affair, not readily contended with: the
labourers did not dare to fly in his face, lest he should make an excuse
to take their work from them. He had already discharged several. So
Clay Lane, for the most part, found itself tied to Peckaby's shop, and
to paying some thirty per cent. beyond what they would have paid at the
old shops; added to which was the grievance of being compelled to put up
with very inferior articles. Dissatisfaction at this state of things had
long been smouldering. It grew and grew, threatening to break out into
open rebellion, perhaps to bloodshed. The neighbourhood cried shame upon
Roy, and felt inclined to echo the cry upon Mrs. Verner; while Clay Lane
openly avowed their belief that Peckaby's shop was Roy's shop, and that
the Peckaby's were only put in to manage it.

One fearfully hot Monday morning, in the beginning of July, Lionel
Verner was passing down Clay Lane. In another week he would be away from
Deerham. Lady Verner's illness had commenced near the latter end of
April, and it was growing towards the end of June before she began to
get better, or would give Lionel leave to depart. Jan, plain-speaking,
truth-telling Jan, had at length quietly told his mother that there was
nothing the matter with her but "vexing and temper." Lady Verner went
into hysterics at Jan's unfilial conduct; but, certain it was, from that
very time she began to amend. July came in, and Lionel was permitted to
fix the day for his departure.

Lionel was walking down Clay Lane. It was a short cut to Lord Elmsley's
house over the hills, a mile or two distant. Not a very suitable day for
a walk. Had Lionel been training for a light jockey, without any
superfluous weight, he might have dispensed with extra covering in his
exercise, and done as effectually without it. A hotter day never was
known in our climate; a more intensely burning sun never rode in the
heavens. It blazed down with a force that was almost unbearable,
scorching and withering all within its radius. Lionel looked up at it;
it seemed to blister his face and dazzle his eyes; and his resolution
wavered as he thought of the walk before him. "I have a great mind not
to go," said he mentally. "They can set up their targets without me. I
shal