w moments, and then
turned to Barnett.

"You were nearly as much in fault as he," she said sternly. "I do not
approve of my servants, even if they are in fault, being addressed in
such a tone."

Mrs Mostyn walked away, and Daniel Barnett abstained from visiting at
the cottage that night.

A week later old Tummus was reinstated without apologising to the
head-gardener, after old Hannah had been up to the house and begged him
on.

"No, ma'am," she said, through her tears; "he hasn't 'pologised, and he
says he can't, because it's all true."

"Then it is sheer obstinacy, Hannah," said Mrs Mostyn.

"Yes, mum, that's just what it is. Many's the time his mother's told me
that he was the obstintest boy that ever lived, and well I know it.
Once he's said a thing, wild horses couldn't make him alter it. And you
see he's seventy-five now, ma'am, and been sixty-three years in these
gardens. He's been growing obstin't' all this time, and I'm afraid you
can't change him now. Please, please, let him come back to work, mum;
you'll kill him if you don't."

"There, go away with you, you stupid woman, and tell him I'm very very
angry with him for a careless, obstinate, wicked old man, and I don't
forgive him a bit; but he may come back to work, and you can ask the
housekeeper to give you half-a-pound of tea as you go."

Old Hannah went away, sobbing aloud, and so overcome that, in spite of
the hot water which bedewed her cheeks, she forgot all about the tea.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

Another six months had passed, and it was spring again, with its bright
promises of renewing life and sunshine, when, one evening, Mrs Ellis
sat holding her child's hand, the tears stealing slowly down her cheeks
as she talked in a low voice, stifling a sob from time to time, and in
every way showing how bad an ambassadress she was, and how thoroughly
her sympathies were with her child.

"Did father tell you to say this, mother?" said Mary wearily.

"Yes, my darling. He says he is getting older, and that it is the one
wish of his heart to see you happy."

"But he would not see me happy, mother, if I said Yes," replied Mary.
"I cannot, indeed, I cannot love Daniel Barnett. I could never make him
a good wife. Why will he persecute me so?"

"Because he loves you, dear; and don't, pray don't be hasty! You don't
know: the love may come, dear."

"Yes, mother; the love may come, but will it?"

"See how good and patient he has been; and