ce.

"And where tarry you to-night, trow?" demanded Mrs Abbott. "Is it to
be at Saint Albans or--"

"Up atop of yon tree," screamed Hester; "there she was with a kitten in
her mouth, and--"

"All the jewels you could think of," Dorcas was heard to utter.

The words on either side were lost, but nobody--except, perhaps, the
speakers--thought the loss a serious one.

Under way at last, the coach rumbled with dignity up King Street,
through the Court gates, past Charing Cross and along the Strand--a
place fraught with painful memories to one at least of the party--past
the Strand Cross, through Temple Bar, up Fetter Lane, over Holborn
Bridge and Snow Hill, up Aldersgate Street, along the Barbican, and by
the fields to Shoreditch, into the Saint Alban's Road. As they came out
into the Shoreditch Road, a little above Bishopsgate, they were equally
surprised and gratified to find Lady Oxford's groom of the chambers
standing and waiting for their approach. As he recognised the faces, he
stepped forward. In his hand was a very handsome cloak of fine cloth,
of the shade of brown then called meal-colour, lined with crimson plush,
and trimmed with beaver fur.

"Madam, my Lady bids you right heartily farewell, and prays you accept
this cloak to lap you at night in your journey, with her loving
commendations: 'tis of her Ladyship's own wearing."

It was considered at that time to add zest to a gift, if it had been
used by the giver.

Lady Louvaine returned a message suited to the gratitude and pleasure
which she felt at this timely remembrance, and the coach rolled away,
leaving London behind.

"Weel, God be wi' thee and all thine!" said Charity, looking back at the
great metropolis: "and if I ne'er see thee again, it'll none break my
heart."

"Nay, nor mine nother!" added Rachel. "I can tell thee, lass, I'm fair
fain to get out o' th' smoke and mire. Th' devil mun dwell i' London, I
do think."

"I doubt it not," said Hans, who heard the remark, "but he has country
houses, Rachel."

"Well!" said that damsel, in a satisfied tone: "at any rate, we shalln't
find him at Selwick!"

"Maybe not, if the house be empty," was Hans's reply: "but he will come
in when we do, take my word for it."

"Yo're reet, Mestur 'Ans," said Charity, gravely.

Four days' travelling brought them to the door of the Hill House at
Minster Lovel. They had had no opportunity of sending word of their
coming.

"How amazed Aunt Joyce wil