me away from the
warm fires.

I had come down as usual, and, entering the library, I found Miss
Forrest seated.

"I wish you a happy new year, Miss Forrest," I said. "May it be the
happiest year you have ever known." She looked around the room as if she
expected to see some one else present; then, looking up at me, she said,
with the happy look I loved to see, "And I heartily return your wish,
Mr. Blake."

There was no coldness, no restraint in her voice. She spoke as if she
was glad to see me, and wanted me to know it. Instantly a burden rolled
away from my heart, and for a few minutes I was the happiest of men.
Presently I heard voices at the library door, and immediately Miss
Forrest's kindness and cheerfulness vanished, and those who entered the
room must have fancied that I was annoying her with my company. I
remained in the room a few minutes longer, but she was studiously cold
and polite to me, so that when I made a pretence of going out to the
stables to see a new horse Tom Temple had bought, I did so with a heavy
heart.

I had no sooner entered the stable-yard than Simon Slowden appeared, and
beckoned to me.

"I looked hout for yer honour all day yesterday," he said, "but you lay
like a hare in a furze bush. Things is looking curious, yer honour."

"Indeed, Simon. How?"

"Can 'ee come this yer way a minit, yer honour?" "Certainly," I said,
and followed him into a room over the stables. I did not like having
confidences in this way; but my brain was confused, and I could not rid
myself from the idea that some plot was being concocted against me.

Simon looked around to make sure there were no eavesdroppers; then he
said, "There's a hancient wirgin 'ere called Miss Staggles, ain't there,
Mr. Blake?"

"There is. Why?"

"It's my belief as 'ow she's bin a waccinated ten times, yer honour."

"Why, Simon?"

"Why, she's without blood or marrow, she is; and as for flesh, she ain't
got none."

"Well, what for that?"

"And not honly that," he continued, without heeding my question, "she
hain't a got a hounce of tender feelin's in her natur. In my opinion,
sur, she's a witch, she is, and hev got dealin's with the devil."

"And what for all this?" I said. "Surely you haven't taken me up here to
give me your impressions concerning Miss Staggles?"

"Well, I hev partly, yer honour. The truth is"--here he sunk his voice
to a whisper--"she's very thick with that willain with a hinfidel's
name. They're in