est. With her arms folded on the white cloth, and
her ruddy face bending forward, she went on with her talk. But this
time she turned from the castle, and began to ask questions, for the
presence of this singular old woman in her house had fully aroused her
curiosity.

But the traveller was on her guard now, and escaped these blunt
questions with quiet adroitness. When they became oppressive, she arose
from the table and asked permission to seek her bed, as the day's travel
had left her tired beyond anything.

The hostess took a candle from the table and led the way up stairs,
somewhat baffled, but full of kindly feeling. There was something about
the manner and speech of this old woman that set all her warm-hearted
interest afloat. Who was she? From what part of England had she
travelled with that rusty little bag and those thick-soled shoes? That
quiet manner and gentle voice might have belonged to any lady of the
land.

In the midst of these conjectures the quiet old woman reached out her
hand for the candle, and with a soft "good-night," closed the
chamber-door.

CHAPTER XIV.

THE OLD COUNTESS AND HER SERVANT.

The next morning Mrs. Yates was early at the park-gate. She found no
trouble in passing through now, and was soon in the avenue, making slow
progress toward the castle, under the shade of those vast oaks and
chestnuts. The way was long, and the avenue swept upward with what, to
the old woman, was a toilsome ascent. The bag, which she carried in her
hand, was of some weight, too, and the cramped inaction of so many years
had rendered walking a slow and painful process.

At last she stood in full view of that grand old building--a castle of
the olden times--kept, so far as possible to elegance or comfort, in its
ponderous mediaeval grandeur. But Madam Art had softened all its ruder
features. Plate-glass was sunk into those thick walls; circular rooms in
those twin towers, commanded a splendid view of the valley, over which
the castle was built. The broad stone terrace connecting the towers, and
fronting the main building was connected with a velvet lawn by a forest
of hot-house plants, that clung around the stone parapet in a sumptuous
garland of vines and flowers, that shed a soft and delicious fragrance
over everything in and around the building.

Across this lawn and over the stone terrace the old woman toiled toward
the main entrance. She was beginning to tremble now with something
beside