g. And the whole string
was merry and talkative. It was a fine night. The leading pearls of the
string bore down on the middle-aged pair, and peered, and passed.

"Good-night, Mrs. Prockter. Good-night, Mr. Ollerenshaw."

Then another couple did the same. "Good-night, Mrs. Prockter.
Good-night, Mr. Ollerenshaw."

And so it went on. And the string, laughing and talking, gradually
disappeared diminuendo in the distance towards Bursley.

"I suppose you know you've done it this time?" observed Mrs. Prockter.

It was a dark saying, but James fully understood it. He felt as though
he had drunk champagne. "As well be hung for a sheep as a lamb!" he said
to himself. And deliberately squeezed the royal arm.

Nothing violent happened. He had rather expected the heavens to fall, or
that at least Mrs. Prockter would exclaim: "Unhand me, monster!" But
nothing violent happened.

"And this is me, James Ollerenshaw!" he said to himself, still
squeezing.

CHAPTER XXV

GIRLISH CONFIDENCES

One afternoon Sarah Swetnam called, and Helen in person opened the great
door to the visitor.

"I saw that frock in Brunt's three days ago," Helen began, kissing the
tall, tightbound, large-boned woman.

"I know you did, Nell," Sarah admitted. "But you needn't tell me so.
Don't you like it?"

"I think it's a dream," Helen replied, quickly. "Turn round." But there
was a certain lack of conviction in her voice, and in Sarah's manner
there was something strained. Accordingly, they both became
extravagantly effusive--or, at any rate, more effusive than usual,
though each was well aware that the artifice was entirely futile.

"All alone?" Sarah asked, when she had recovered from the first shock of
the hall's magnificence.

"Yes," said Helen. "It's Georgiana's afternoon out, and uncle's away,
and I haven't got any new servants yet."

"Mr. Ollerenshaw away! No one ever heard of such a thing! If you knew
him as well as we do, you'd have fainted with surprise. It ought to be
in the paper. Where's he gone to?"

"He's gone to Derby, to try to buy some property that he says is going
very cheap there. He's been gone three days now. He got a letter at
breakfast, and said he must go to Derby at once. However, he had to
finish his rents. The trouble is that his rents never are finished, and
I'm bothered all the time by people coming with three and sixpence, or
four shillings, and a dirty rent-book! Oh! and the dirt on the coins! My
dear,