up with Miss Rachel in London; don't put up
with her in Yorkshire. Come back to the house!"

Quite unanswerable! I could only assure my good friend that even HIS
powers of persuasion were, in this case, thrown away on me.

"It's a lovely evening," I said. "I shall walk to Frizinghall, and stay
at the hotel, and you must come to-morrow morning and breakfast with me.
I have something to say to you."

Betteredge shook his head gravely.

"I am heartily sorry for this," he said. "I had hoped, Mr. Franklin, to
hear that things were all smooth and pleasant again between you and
Miss Rachel. If you must have your own way, sir," he continued, after a
moment's reflection, "there is no need to go to Frizinghall to-night
for a bed. It's to be had nearer than that. There's Hotherstone's
Farm, barely two miles from here. You can hardly object to THAT on Miss
Rachel's account," the old man added slily. "Hotherstone lives, Mr.
Franklin, on his own freehold."

I remembered the place the moment Betteredge mentioned it. The
farm-house stood in a sheltered inland valley, on the banks of the
prettiest stream in that part of Yorkshire: and the farmer had a spare
bedroom and parlour, which he was accustomed to let to artists, anglers,
and tourists in general. A more agreeable place of abode, during my stay
in the neighbourhood, I could not have wished to find.

"Are the rooms to let?" I inquired.

"Mrs. Hotherstone herself, sir, asked for my good word to recommend the
rooms, yesterday."

"I'll take them, Betteredge, with the greatest pleasure."

We went back to the yard, in which I had left my travelling-bag. After
putting a stick through the handle, and swinging the bag over his
shoulder, Betteredge appeared to relapse into the bewilderment which my
sudden appearance had caused, when I surprised him in the beehive chair.
He looked incredulously at the house, and then he wheeled about, and
looked more incredulously still at me.

"I've lived a goodish long time in the world," said this best and
dearest of all old servants--"but the like of this, I never did expect
to see. There stands the house, and here stands Mr. Franklin Blake--and,
Damme, if one of them isn't turning his back on the other, and going to
sleep in a lodging!"

He led the way out, wagging his head and growling ominously. "There's
only one more miracle that CAN happen," he said to me, over his
shoulder. "The next thing you'll do, Mr. Franklin, will be to pay me
b