of
your body!"

In effect, beside herself with rage, Jane had caught the butler by the
collar with both hands, and at every word she had given him a furious
shake, till, utterly confounded at the suddenness of the attack, he had
really, to avoid the onslaught, sunk upon his knees, enabling her,
though, to deliver the correction more effectually.

"Say it was all stories--say it was all stories," cried Jane.

"I won't: it's all as true as true, and her--"

"Take that, you wicked villain!" shrieked Jane; and with the full force
of her by no means weak arm, she slapped him across the mouth just as
the door opened, and a knot of eager, curious servants appeared.

"What is the matter?" was the cry.

"Let him say a word if he dares," cried Jane, ending her punishment by a
tremendous box on the butler's ears, to the intense delight of the
lookers-on. "He told lies about me, and I hit him--there!" said Jane
defiantly, "and let him say it isn't true if he dares."

Then, utterly exhausted by her efforts, poor Jane threw herself,
sobbing, into a chair.

"Oh, take me away!--take me away!" she cried; and two of the
sympathising women ran to her, declaring that it was a shame, that it
was; while the stout cook delivered her opinion that it would be a
blessing if there wasn't a man left on the face of the earth, "breaking
poor women's hearts as was faithful unto death."

Whereupon one of the footmen winked at a very smart and aspiring
kitchen-maid, who had whispered to him her suspicions respecting cook's
possessing a similar weakness to Mr Gurdon's, and requiring stimulants
for the due invention of fresh dishes.

"It's a pity that people don't know their places," said Gurdon, sulkily,
"and keep to the kitchen and hall, instead of pushing themselves into
the housekeeper's room, where they're not wanted."

But somehow, the butler's words had but very little effect, for in spite
of their knowledge of his engagement to Jane Barker, and her great
influence in domestic matters with her mistress, John Gurdon's tenure at
the Castle was held to be in a very insecure state.

Nobody therefore stirred--Mr Gurdon's hint evidently not being
sufficiently potent; so, with a scowl at the sobbing woman, he turned
and left the room, to don a fresh cravat--the present one being limp,
crumpled, and displaying very clearly the encounter in which he had been
engaged.

"Let them look out, some of them," he cried, wrathfully, as soon as he