right in what I think. I have no one in whom I
can confide, as it certainly would not do to speak to Pia on the
subject,--I feel sure she would rather I didn't, so I am writing to you
as I feel I must tell someone. My dear, it sounds too extraordinary for
anything, and I can't understand it myself, but it is this. Pia knows the
under-gardener at the Hall, really knows him I mean, not merely who he
is, and that he is one of the gardeners, and that he came to these parts
last March, which, of course, we all know.

"I found this out quite by accident, and will explain the incident to
you. You must forgive me if I am lengthy; but I can only write in my own
way, dear Trix, and perhaps that will be a little long-winded.

"Yesterday afternoon, which was Saturday, Pia and I motored into Byestry,
as she wanted to see Father Dormer about something. I went into the
church, while she went to the presbytery. I noticed a man in the church
as I went in, a man in workman's clothes, but of course I did not pay any
particular attention to him. I knelt down by one of the chairs near the
door, and just beyond St. Peter's statue. I suppose I must have been
kneeling there about ten minutes when the man got up. He didn't
genuflect, and I glanced involuntarily at him. He didn't notice me,
because I was partly hidden by St. Peter's statue. Then I saw it was the
under-gardener,--Michael Field, I believe his name is.

"My dear, the man looked dreadfully ill, and so sad. It was the face of a
man who had lost something or someone very dear to him. He went towards
the porch, and just before he reached it, I heard the door open. Whoever
was coming in must have met him just inside the church. There was a sound
of steps as if the person had turned back into the porch with him. Then I
heard Pia's voice, speaking impulsively and almost involuntarily. At
least I felt sure it was involuntarily. It sounded exactly as if she
couldn't help speaking.

"'Oh,' she said, 'you've been ill.'

"'Nothing of any consequence, Madam,' I heard the man's voice answer.

"'But it must have been of consequence,' I heard Pia say. 'Have you seen
a doctor?'

"'There was no need,' returned the man.

"Then I heard Pia's voice, impulsive and a little bit impatient. She
evidently had not seen me in the church, and thought no one was there.

"'But there is need. Why don't you go and see Doctor Hilary?'

"'I am not ill enough to need doctors, Madam,' returned the man.

"'