the room.

"Cornwall promises to be a queer place," said Pratt; "but that stuff was
heavenly--did you finish it, Dick?"

"Not quite, I think," said Trevor.

"And you sent it away. Oh, Dick!"

The little maid had hardly got outside the door, when Mrs Lloyd came
across the hall, followed at a short distance by the butler, rubbing his
hands, smiling feebly, and looking anxious.

"Crying?" said Mrs Lloyd, sharply. "You little goose!"

"I--I--couldn't help it, aunt, indeed," sobbed the girl.

"'Sh! not a sound," said Mrs Lloyd, sharply; and she caught the girl by
the arm. "Did he drink the milk?"

"Yes, aunt."

"Did that other gentleman take any?"

"Yes, aunt--a lot."

"As if he couldn't come home without bringing such a pack with him. Now
come into my room, and I'll talk to you, madam. Lloyd, take that
waiter."

She led the way into the housekeeper's room, as her husband obediently
bore off the flagon to his pantry; and then, shutting the door, she took
her seat in a stiff, horse-hair-covered chair, looking as hard and prim
as the presses and cupboards around.

"Now listen to me," she said, harshly.

"Yes, aunt."

"I'm not going to boast; but what have I done for you?"

"Paid for my schooling, aunt, and kept me three years."

"Where would you have been if it hadn't been for me?"

"Living with Aunt Price at Caerwmlych."

"Starving with her, you mean, when she can hardly keep herself," said
Mrs Lloyd, sharply. "Now, look here, Polly, I've taken you from a life
of misery to make you well off and happy; and I will be minded. Do you
hear me?"

"Yes, aunt."

"Then do as I tell you exactly. Do you hear?"

"I'll try, aunt."

"Try? You must. Now, then: Did he speak to you?"

"Yes, aunt."

"What did he say? Come, speak, child!"

"He asked me who I was, aunt; and what I had come for."

"Of course, you silly little thing. There, no more tears. It's
dreadful treatment, isn't it, to make you go in and attend to him a
little?"

"Please, aunt, I don't mind that," said the girl.

"No, I should think not, indeed," said Mrs Lloyd. "He's an ogre to
look at, isn't he?"

"No, aunt, I think he's a fine, handsome man."

"Not a finer, nor a handsomer, nor a nicer in all Cornwall: and you
ought to be fine and pleased to be in the house. And now look here,
madam--no more tears, if you please."

"No, aunt."

"And you're always to be nicely dressed, and do your hair well."

"Yes, aunt."