id, "I think you have been
inquiring for me? I am Mrs. Yeobright of Blooms-End."

The reddleman started, and held up his finger. He stopped the horses,
and beckoned to her to withdraw with him a few yards aside, which she
did, wondering.

"You don't know me, ma'am, I suppose?" he said.

"I do not," said she. "Why, yes, I do! You are young Venn--your
father was a dairyman somewhere here?"

"Yes; and I knew your niece, Miss Tamsin, a little. I have something
bad to tell you."

"About her--no! She has just come home, I believe, with her husband.
They arranged to return this afternoon--to the inn beyond here."

"She's not there."

"How do you know?"

"Because she's here. She's in my van," he added slowly.

"What new trouble has come?" murmured Mrs. Yeobright, putting her hand
over her eyes.

"I can't explain much, ma'am. All I know is that, as I was going
along the road this morning, about a mile out of Anglebury, I heard
something trotting after me like a doe, and looking round there she
was, white as death itself. 'Oh, Diggory Venn!' she said, 'I thought
'twas you: will you help me? I am in trouble.'"

"How did she know your Christian name?" said Mrs. Yeobright
doubtingly.

"I had met her as a lad before I went away in this trade. She asked
then if she might ride, and then down she fell in a faint. I picked
her up and put her in, and there she has been ever since. She has
cried a good deal, but she has hardly spoke; all she has told me being
that she was to have been married this morning. I tried to get her to
eat something, but she couldn't; and at last she fell asleep."

"Let me see her at once," said Mrs. Yeobright, hastening towards the
van.

The reddleman followed with the lantern, and, stepping up first,
assisted Mrs. Yeobright to mount beside him. On the door being
opened she perceived at the end of the van an extemporized couch,
around which was hung apparently all the drapery that the reddleman
possessed, to keep the occupant of the little couch from contact with
the red materials of his trade. A young girl lay thereon, covered
with a cloak. She was asleep, and the light of the lantern fell upon
her features.

A fair, sweet, and honest country face was revealed, reposing in a
nest of wavy chestnut hair. It was between pretty and beautiful.
Though her eyes were closed, one could easily imagine the light
necessarily shining in them as the culmination of the luminous
workmanship around. The gro