lamb at once, Martha."

"So I will, ma'am, when I've got it out, all clear."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Why,--just this, ma'am. May I tell Miss Dolly straight out that you
want her to come back, and that I've been sent to say so?"

"No, Martha."

"Then how am I to do it, ma'am?"

"Do it out of your own head, just as it comes up at the moment."

"Out of my own head, ma'am?"

"Yes;--just as you feel, you know."

"Just as I feel, ma'am?"

"You understand what I mean, Martha."

"I'll do my best, ma'am, and I can't say no more. And if you scolds
me afterwards, ma'am,--why, of course, I must put up with it."

"But I won't scold you, Martha."

"Then I'll go out to Winslow's about the lamb at once, ma'am."

"Very nice, and not too small, Martha."

Martha went out and ordered the lamb, and packed it as desired quite
clean in a napkin, and fitted it into the basket, and arranged with
Giles Hickbody to carry it down for her early in the morning to the
station, so that she might take the first train to Lessborough. It
was understood that she was to hire a fly at Lessborough to take her
to Nuncombe Putney. Now that she understood the importance of her
mission and was aware that the present she took with her was only
the customary accompaniment of an ambassadress entrusted with a
great mission, Martha said nothing even about the expense. The train
started for Lessborough at seven, and as she was descending from her
room at six, Miss Stanbury, in her flannel dressing-gown, stepped
out of the door of her own room. "Just put this in the basket," said
she, handing a note to her servant. "I thought last night I'd write a
word. Just put it in the basket and say nothing about it." The note
which she sent was as follows:--

The Close, 8th April, 186--.

MY DEAR DOROTHY,--

As Martha talks of going over to pay you a visit, I've
thought that I'd just get her to take you a quarter of
lamb, which is coming in now very nice. I do envy her
going to see you, my dear, for I had gotten somehow to
love to see your pretty face. I'm getting almost strong
again; but Sir Peter, who was here this afternoon, just
calling as a friend, was uncivil enough to say that I'm
too much of an old woman to go out in the east wind. I
told him it didn't much matter;--for the sooner old women
made way for young ones, the better.

I am very desolate and solitary here. But I rather think
that women