ng foliage,
she found that it was a stately quadrangle of grey stone, with a stone
terrace round three sides of it, a garden laid out in grim, Dutch square
order, away from the sea; and two or three cottages, with farm-buildings
and stables, grouped behind. The horses drew up at a side door.

"Now!" lethargically said Dick, lumbering off his horse. "Con ye get
off by yoursen?"

"I'll try," grunted the rather indignant Barbara, who considered that
her precious charge, Clare, was being very neglectfully received. She
sprang down more readily than Dick, and standing on the horse-block,
lifted down little Clare.

"Hallo!" said Dick, by way of ringing the bell.

A slight stir was heard through the open door, and a young woman
appeared, fresh-looking and smiling-faced.

"Mistress Polwhele, I reckon?" she asked. "An' is this t' little lass?
Eh, God bless thee, little lass! Come in--thou'rt bound to be aweary."

Clare looked up into the girl's pleasant face, and sliding her hand
confidingly into hers, said demurely,--"I'll come."

"Dick 'll see to th' gear, Mistress," said the girl.

"Thou'd better call Sim, Dick.--I reckon you'd best come wi' me."

"What is your name?" asked Barbara, following her guide.

"Jennet," said the smiling girl.

"Well, Jennet, you are the best thing I have yet seen up hither,"
announced Barbara cynically.

"Eh, you've none seen nought yet!" said Jennet, laughing. "There's
better things here nor me, I'se warrant you."

"Humph!" returned Barbara meditatively. She doubted it very much.

Jennet paused at a door, and rapped. There was no answer; perhaps her
appeal was not heard by those within. She pushed the door a little
open, saying to Barbara, "There! you'd best go in, happen."

So Barbara, putting little Clare before her, went in.

It was a large, square, low room, sweet with the perfume of dried roses.
There were four occupants,--two ladies, and two girls. One of the
ladies sat with her back to the door, trying to catch the last ray of
daylight for her work; the other had dropped asleep. Evidently neither
had heard Jennet's knock.

It was rather an awkward state of things. Little Clare went a few feet
into the room, stopped, and looked up at Barbara for direction. At the
same moment the elder girl turned her head and saw them.

"Madam!" said Barbara stiffly.

"Aunt Rachel!" [Note 1] said the girl.

The lady who sat by the window looked round, and rose. She was