joke
immensely. That she, at eighty, should tell a child of seven a tale of
nuptial infidelity! She took her great-grandson into her confidence
about it, asking him:--"Did they say his great-grandmother told shocking
stories to innocent little boys?"--and so forth.

The doctor had to interpose upon this utter unconsciousness, and the
task was not altogether an easy one; indeed, its difficulties seemed to
him to grow. He let her have her laugh out, and then said quietly:--"But
where did Mrs. Prichard get the story?"

Granny Marrable had lost sight of this, and was disconcerted.
"What--why--yes--where _did_ she get it? Mrs. Prichard, of course! Now,
wherever could Mrs. Prichard have got it?..." It called for thought.

Dr. Nash's idea was to give facts gradually, and let them work their own
way. "Perhaps she knew Mr. Muggeridge herself," said he. "When did he
die?"

"Mercy me, doctor, where's the use of asking _me_? Before _you_ were
born, anyhow! That's him, a man of forty, with the horses and me a child
under ten! Seventy years ago, and a little to spare!"

"_That_ cock won't fight, then. As I make out, old Mrs. Prichard didn't
come from Van Diemen's Land above five-and-twenty years ago."

"_Where_ did Mrs. Prichard come from?"

"From Van Diemen's Land. In Australia. Where the convicts go."

"There now! Only to think of that! Why--I see it all!" Granny Marrable
seemed pleased.

"What do you see, Mrs. Marrable?" The doctor was puzzled. He had quite
expected that at this point suspicion of the facts _must_ dawn, however
dimly.

"Because that is where my dear sister was, that died. Oh, so many long
years ago!" Whenever old Phoebe mentioned Maisie, the same note of
pathos came in her voice. The doctor felt he was operating for the
patient's sake; but it would be the knife, without an anaesthetic. He had
not indefinite time to spare for this operation.

"I am going to ask what will seem a very absurd question," said he, in
the dry, professional manner in which he was wont to intrude upon his
patients' private internal affairs. "But you must remember I am an
outsider--quite in the dark."

A slight puzzled look on the strong old face before him, with--yes--a
faint suspicion of alarm! But oh, how faint! Perhaps he was mistaken,
though. For Granny Marrable let no sign of alarm come in her voice, if
she felt any. "What were ye wishing to be told, doctor?" she cheerfully
said. "If it's a secret, I won't tell it ye.