What was it? Something had prompted Sir Bale,
early in that dark shrewd month of December, to tell his wife that he
wished to call together some of his county acquaintances, and to fill
his house for a week or so, as near Christmas as she could get them to
come. He wished her sisters--Lady Haworth (with her husband) and the
Dowager Lady Walsingham--to be invited for an early day, before the
coming of the other guests, so that she might enjoy their society for a
little time quietly to herself before the less intimate guests should
assemble.

Glad was Lady Mardykes to hear the resolve of her husband, and prompt to
obey. She wrote to her sisters to beg them to arrange to come, together,
by the tenth or twelfth of the month, which they accordingly arranged to
do. Sir Oliver, it was true, could not be of the party. A minister of
state was drinking the waters at Bath; and Sir Oliver thought it would
do him no harm to sip a little also, and his fashionable doctor politely
agreed, and "ordered" to those therapeutic springs the knight of the
shire, who was "consumedly vexed" to lose the Christmas with that jolly
dog, Bale, down at Mardykes Hall. But a fellow must have a stomach for
his Christmas pudding, and politics takes it out of a poor gentleman
deucedly; and health's the first thing, egad!

So Sir Oliver went down to Bath, and I don't know that he tippled much
of the waters, but he did drink the burgundy of that haunt of the
ailing; and he had the honour of making a fourth not unfrequently in the
secretary of state's whist-parties.

It was about the 8th of December when, in Lady Walsingham's carriage,
intending to post all the way, that lady, still young, and Lady Haworth,
with all the servants that were usual in such expeditions in those days,
started from the great Dower House at Islington in high spirits.

Lady Haworth had not been very well--low and nervous; but the clear
frosty sun, and the pleasant nature of the excursion, raised her spirits
to the point of enjoyment; and expecting nothing but happiness and
gaiety--for, after all, Sir Bale was but one of a large party, and even
he could make an effort and be agreeable as well as hospitable on
occasion--they set out on their northward expedition. The journey, which
is a long one, they had resolved to break into a four days' progress;
and the inns had been written to, bespeaking a comfortable reception.

CHAPTER XXV

Through the Wall

On the third night