sent that afternoon for Mr. Giles, the steward, and told him what she
had done. Mr. Giles did not at all approve, and spoke his disapproval
very plainly, though he garnished his rebuke with a great many "my
lady's." The old man was a hanger-on about the place, and for years had
received eight shillings a week, which he had not half earned. "Now he
will have ten, that is all," said Lady Ongar. Mr. Giles acknowledged
that if her ladyship pleased, Enoch Gubby must have the ten shillings,
but declared that the business could not be carried on in that way.
Everybody about the place would expect an addition, and those people who
did earn what they received, would think themselves cruelly used in
being worse treated than Enoch Gubby, who, according to Mr. Giles, was
by no means the most worthy old man in the parish. And as for his
daughter--oh! Mr. Giles could not trust himself to talk about the
daughter to her ladyship. Before he left her, Lady Ongar was convinced
that she had made a mistake. Not even from charity will pleasure come,
if charity be taken up simply to appease remorse.

The price was in her hand. For a fortnight the idea clung to her, that
gradually she would realize the joys of possession; but there was no
moment in which she could tell herself that the joy was hers. She was
now mistress of the geography of the place. There was no more losing
herself amidst the shrubberies, no thought of economizing her resources.
Of Mr. Giles and his doings she still knew very little, but the desire
of knowing much had faded. The ownership of the haystacks had become a
thing tame to her, and the great cart-horses, as to every one of which
she had intended to feel an interest, were matters of indifference to
her. She observed that since her arrival a new name in new paint--her
own name--was attached to the carts, and that the letters were big and
glaring. She wished that this had not been done, or, at any rate, that
the letters had been smaller. Then she began to think that it might be
well for her to let the farm to a tenant; not that she might thus get
more money, but because she felt that the farm would be a trouble. The
apples had indeed quickly turned to ashes between her teeth!

On the first Sunday that she was at Ongar Park she went to the parish
church. She had resolved strongly that she would do this, and she did
it; but when the moment for starting came, her courage almost failed
her. The church was but a few yards fr