istmas."

While Tom thus spoke Kenelm had summoned his servant, and ordered up
such refreshments as could be found in the larder of a bachelor in
lodgings. "And what brings you to town, Tom?"

"Miss Travers wrote to me about a little business which she was good
enough to manage for me, and said you wished to know about it; and so,
after turning it over in my mind for a few days, I resolved to come to
town: indeed," added Tom, heartily, "I did wish to see your face again."

"But you talk riddles. What business of yours could Miss Travers imagine
I wished to know about?"

Tom coloured high, and looked very embarrassed. Luckily, the servant
here entering with the refreshment-tray allowed him time to recover
himself. Kenelm helped him to a liberal slice of cold pigeon-pie,
pressed wine on him, and did not renew the subject till he thought his
guest's tongue was likely to be more freely set loose; then he said,
laying a friendly hand on Tom's shoulders, "I have been thinking over
what passed between me and Miss Travers. I wished to have the new
address of Will Somers; she promised to write to his benefactor to ask
permission to give it. You are that benefactor?"

"Don't say benefactor, sir. I will tell how it came about if you will
let me. You see, I sold my little place at Graveleigh to the new Squire,
and when Mother removed to Luscombe to be near me, she told me how
poor Jessie had been annoyed by Captain Stavers, who seems to think
his purchase included the young women on the property along with the
standing timber; and I was half afraid that she had given some cause for
his persecution, for you know she has a blink of those soft eyes of
hers that might charm a wise man out of his skin and put a fool there
instead."

"But I hope she has done with those blinks since her marriage."

"Well, and I honestly think she has. It is certain she did not encourage
Captain Stavers, for I went over to Graveleigh myself on the sly, and
lodged concealed with one of the cottagers who owed me a kindness; and
one day, as I was at watch, I saw the Captain peering over the stile
which divides Holmwood from the glebe,--you remember Holmwood?"

"I can't say I do."

"The footway from the village to Squire Travers's goes through the
wood, which is a few hundred yards at the back of Will Somers's orchard.
Presently the Captain drew himself suddenly back from the stile, and
disappeared among the trees, and then I saw Jessie coming from t