, I lay." Neither made
any reference to Mrs. Prichard's newly discovered identity. For though,
as we have seen, Keziah knew all about it, she felt that the time had
not yet come for free speech. Granny Marrable turned to John Costrell,
saying in the same clear, unhesitating way:--"You may say to Maisie that
her mother wants a helping hand with old Mrs. Prichard, but I'll come in
the morning. You'll say no further than that, John;"--and passed on into
the house.

John replied:--"I'll see to it, Granny," and grasped the situation,
evidently. Keziah remained, and as soon as the old lady was out of
hearing, said to him:--"This be a stra-ange stary coom to light, Master
Costrell. Only to think of it! The Gra-anny's twin, thought dead now,
fowerty years agone!"

"Thou'lt be knowing mower o' the stary than I, belike, Mrs. Solmes,"
said John. "I'm only the better by a bare word or so, so far, from
speech o' the Gra-anny with her yoong la-adyship o' the Towers, but now,
on the roo-ad. The Gra-anny she was main silent, coom'n' along."

"There's nowt to wonder at in that, Master Costrell. For there's th'
stary, as I tell it ye. Fowerty years agone and more, she was dead by
all accounts, out in the Colonies, and counted her sister dead as well.
And twenty years past she's been living in London town, and ne'er a one
known it. And now she's come by a chance to this very house!"

"She'd never coom anigh to this place?"

"Sakes alive, no! 'Twas all afower Gra-anny Marrable come here to marry
Farmer Marrable--he was her second, ye know. I was a bit of a chit then.
And Ruth Thrale was fower or five years yoonger. She was all one as if
she was the Gra-anny's own child. But she was noa such a thing."

Then it became clear that the word or so had been very bare indeed. "She
was an orphan, I ta-ak it," said John indifferently.

"There, now!" said Keziah. "I was ma-akin' a'most sure you didn't see
the right of it, Master Costrell. And I wasn't far wrong, that once!"

"Maybe I'm out, but I do-an't see rightly where. A girl's an orphan,
with ne'er a fa-ather nor a moother. Maybe one o' them was living? Will
that square it?"

"One o' them's living still. And none so vairy far from where we stand.
Can ye ma-ak nowt o' that, Master Costrell?"

John _was_ a little slow; it was his bucolic mind. "None so vairy far
from where we stand?" he repeated, in the dark.

"Hearken to me tell ye, man alive! She's in yander cottage, in the
bedroom