lmon-pink
edged with frills and furbelows which somehow cheapened the high,
antique mantelpiece, the quaint corner cupboards, and the tall,
high-backed open chairs ranged at equal intervals about the room.

I am not sure if I have described all this aright. For, indeed, the
vague stuffy smell took us by the throats. Both Elsie and I were glad
when Mr. Stennis came back and bustled about, sniffing, growling, and
opening windows and doors.

One of these, that to the left of the wide fireplace, gave into a small
room full of curious wooden machinery to which our eyes were instantly
attracted.

"The old weaver's hand does not forget its cunning--the trade by which
he made his siller!" said Mr. Stennis, with a faint shadow of a smile,
the first we had seen cross his anxious face.

He showed us beautiful pieces of ornamental fabric, upon one of which
he was at present engaged, and even entered into a long explanation as
to his methods of working. Finally he sat down before the intricate
spider's web, and with a skilled click and wheeze sent the shuttle
flying for our benefit. I stood back a good way, but Elsie remained
close beside him. And I could not have believed it, if I had not seen
it--how in the joy of work the "laird" died out of the man, and the
little bow-backed weaver came again plain to the eye.

I turned about, conscious of some unknown interruption. There was a
faint creaking of the door, and through it I could see Miss Orrin, a
tray with tea dishes in her hands, glaring speechlessly at Elsie. The
young girl had laid an unconscious hand on her grandfather's arm. She
was asking him to explain something in the manipulation. But on the
face of the woman who stood without, watching, I surprised cold Death,
and as it were, Hell following after.

I felt that we had no real business in that house, neither Elsie nor I,
and that the sooner I got her safe back to Nance Edgar's, the better
pleased I should be. But Elsie was a difficult girl to shift till she
took it into her own head. Then with a beaming smile Miss Orrin came
into the parlour and began to lay the cloth.

"Ye will be hungry, bairns," she said, with a curious nervous laugh,
which reminded us unpleasantly of her sisters.

"Yes!" we answered together. But somehow I wasn't. The hunger had
left me.

CHAPTER VIII

MISS APHRA'S CURATE

We had scarcely started our tea, and hunger was still keen upon Elsie,
when there came a noise o