Deire for fresh air, and the
neighbourhood of his beloved, sent him on a journey down to Hillford.
Near the gates of the Hillford station, he passed Wilfrid and Adela,
hurrying to catch the up-train, and received no recognition. His face
scarcely changed colour, but the birds on a sudden seemed to pipe far
away from him. He asked himself, presently, what were those black
circular spots which flew chasing along the meadows and the lighted
walks. It was with an effort that he got the landscape close about his
eyes, and remembered familiar places. He walked all day, making
occupation by directing his steps to divers eminences that gave a view of
the Brookfield chimneys. After night-fall he found himself in the
firwood, approaching the 'fruitless tree.' He had leaned against it
musingly, for a time, when he heard voices, as of a couple confident in
their privacy.

The footman, Gainsford, was courting a maid of the Tinley's, and here,
being midway between the two houses, they met. He had to obtain pardon
for tardiness, by saying that dinner at Brookfield had been delayed for
the return of Mr. Pole. The damsel's questions showed her far advanced in
knowledge of affairs at Brookfield and may account for Laura Tinley's
gatherings of latest intelligence concerning those 'odd girls,' as she
impudently called the three.

"Oh! don't you listen!" was the comment pronounced on Gainsford's stock
of information. But, he told nothing signally new. She wished to hear
something new and striking, "because," she said, "when I unpin Miss Laura
at night, I'm as likely as not to get a silk dress that ain't been worn
more than half-a-dozen times--if I manage. When I told her that Mr.
Albert, her brother, had dined at your place last Thursday--demeaning of
himself, I do think--there!--I got a pair of silk stockings,--not letting
her see I knew what it was for, of coursed and about Mrs.
Dump,--Stump;--I can't recollect the woman's name; and her calling of
your master a bankrupt, right out, and wanting her money of him,--there!
if Miss Laura didn't give me a pair of lavender kid-gloves out of her
box!--and I wish you would leave my hands alone, when you know I
shouldn't be so silly as to wear them in the dark; and for you, indeed!"

But Gainsford persisted, upon which there was fooling. All this was too
childish for Sir Purcell to think it necessary to give warning of his
presence. They passed, and when they had gone a short way the damsel
crie