', but thank you kindly."

Perhaps Valentine had never felt better pleased in his life than he did
when he went down the narrow, dark stairs, after his interview with
Becky Maddison. To find that without doubt she was either a fool or an
impostor, was not what should have softened his heart and opened his
purse for her; but he had feared to encounter her story far more than he
had known himself till now that all fear was over. So when he got down
to the daughter he was gracious, and generously gave her leave to come
to the house for wine and any other comforts that the old woman might
require. "And I shall come and see her from time to time," he added, as
he went his way, for with the old woman's last word had snapped the
chain that had barred the road to Melcombe. It was his. He should
dispense its charity, pay its dues, and from henceforth, without fear or
superstition, enjoy its revenues.

About this time something occurred at John Mortimer's house, which made
people hold up their hands, and exclaim, "What next?"

It would be a difficult matter to tell that story correctly, considering
how many had a hand in the telling of it, and that no two of them told
it in the least degree alike; considering also that Mr. Mortimer, who
certainly could have told the greater part of it, had (so far as was
known) never told it at all.

Everybody said he had knocked up Swan and Mrs. Swan at six o'clock one
morning, and sent the former to call up Matthew the coachman, who also
lived out of the house. "And that," said Swan, when he admitted the fact
to after questioners, "Matthew never will forgive me for doing. He hates
to get his orders through other folks, specially through me. He allus
grudges me the respect as the family can't help feeling for me. Not but
that he gets his share, but he counts nothing his if it's mine too. He'd
like to pluck the very summer out of my almanack, and keep it in his own
little back parlour." Everybody said, also, that Mrs. Swan had made the
fire that morning in Mr. Mortimer's kitchen, and that Matthew had waited
on him and his four daughters at breakfast, nobody else being in the
house, gentle or simple.

Gentle or simple. That was certainly true, for the governess had taken
her departure two days previously.

After this, everybody said that Matthew brought the carriage round, and
Mr. Mortimer put in the girls, and got in himself, telling Matthew to
drive to Wigfield Hall, where Mr. Brandon, com