other five-pound note, Charity. And well
you'll have earned it, I'm sure."

"So much for that then. And now, what like was your brother? Let's talk of
him," said Mrs. Badge. "I'm awful sorry for you--'tis a great loss and a
great shock. Horsemanship do often end that way."

Sarah was a thought surprised that t'other should shift the conversation
so sudden; but she felt pretty full of her dead brother and was very well
content to talk about him.

"A flaxen, curly man, with a terrible straight back, and a fighting nose
and blue eyes. He hunted the North Dartmoor Hounds and every girl in these
parts--good-looking and otherwise--was daft about him. They ran after him
like sheep. There was a terrible dashing style to him, and he knowed the
way to get round a female so well as you do the way to get round a corner.
They worshipped him. Just a thought bowed in the legs along of living on
hosses. A wonder on hossback, and very clever over any country. Great at
steeple-chasing also, but too heavy for the flat--else he'd been a jockey
and nothing else. And he would have married Mary Tuckett years ago if her
father had let him. But old Tuckett hated Nathan worse than sin and dared
Mary to speak with him or lift her eyes to him if they met. So away he
went to Ireland; but not before that girl promised to wait for ever, if
need be."

They talked a bit longer; then Mrs. Badge said a deep thing.

"Look here: don't tell nobody that your brother be dead for the minute.
Keep it close, and if you must tell about it, come up here and tell me.
I'll listen. But not a word to anybody else until I give the word."

"Mayn't I tell Johnny French?"

"Not even him," declared Mrs. Badge. "Not a single soul. I've got a reason
for what I say. And now be off, Sarah, and let me think a bit."

With that Mrs. White started; but she hadn't reached the tumble-down gate
of Walna--in fact, 'twas the head of an old iron bedstead stuck there and
not a gate at all--when Charity called after her.

"Go brisk and catch up that girl Mary Tuckett," she said. "Tell her, on
second thoughts--for her good and not for mine--that I'll do what she
wants. Go clever and brisk, and you'll over-get her afore she's home
again."

So Mrs. White trotted off, and very soon found Mary looking over a hedge
and helping a young man to waste his time, according to her usual custom
when there was a coat about.

But Sarah gave her message, and fifteen minutes later Mary was back