that had been brought against his father. They might become a country
tale--but the whole countryside might ring with the story without any
one having the cruelty to repeat it to Terry.

The night was closing down--Christmas was close at hand, and it was
already the first day of the Shortest Days--when they started. A few
dry flakes of snow came in the wind as they crossed the park to the
South lodge, silent now and empty. Under the trees as they went down
the road it was already dark.

The window of the little sitting-room of the Waterfall Cottage threw
its cheerful rosy light out over the road. The bedroom window above
showed a dimmer light.

"Perhaps, after all," she said, "you might come in and wait for me. I
see Susan has lit the fire downstairs. She has not been lighting it
since Stella's illness--I have got a second key for the padlock, so we
shall not have to wait, rattling at the gate."

"You think I may come in?" he asked eagerly.

"We shall consult Mrs. Wade."

Susan received them with a great unbolting and unlocking of the door.
She apologized for her slowness.

"It isn't that lonesome now Mrs. Wade's come," she said. "Yet I've had
a fear on me this while back. Maybe it's the poor child upstairs and
her thinkin' somethink's after her. It fair gave me the creeps to hear
her. She's stopped that since Mrs. Wade's come back. She takes her
for her Ma. Now she's got her she doesn't seem scared any more."

Susan had curtseyed to Terry.

"I've that poor old soul, Miss Brennan, a-sittin' in my kitching, as
warm as warm," she went on. "Didn't you know, m'lady? 'Twas 'er as
went to look for Mrs. Wade. How she knew as Mrs. Wade would content a
child callin' for 'er Ma, passes me."

"Oh, I am glad you have poor Lizzie. I never liked to think of her
alone in that wretched place. Yet when we talked of her leaving it she
always seemed so afraid her liberty would be interfered with. She is
really too old to be running all over the country as she does, coming
back cold and wet to that wretched place, where she might die any night
all alone."

"She do seem to have taken a fancy to me," Mrs. Horridge said placidly.
"I might take her for a lodger, maybe. Georgie's not one to annoy an
old lady like some boys might. I'd love humourin' her little fancies;
I could always do anythink for an old person or a child."

"I am going up to see Miss Stella," Lady O'Gara said. "Do you think
Mr. Terry may w