ggling hideousness, with old
tomato cans in the front yard. Here is one of the things we have to
learn from them."

When she knocked at the door an old woman opened it. She was a
well-preserved and markedly respectable old person, in a decent print
frock and a cap. At the sight of her visitor she beamed and made a
suggestion of curtsey.

"How do you do, Mrs. Welden?" said Betty. "I am Lady Anstruthers'
sister, Miss Vanderpoel. I thought I would like to come and see you."

"Thank you, miss, I am obliged for the kindness, miss. Won't you come in
and have a chair?"

There were no signs of decrepitude about her, and she had a cheery
old eye. The tiny front room was neat, though there was scarcely space
enough in it to contain the table covered with its blue-checked cotton
cloth, the narrow sofa, and two or three chairs. There were a few small
coloured prints, and a framed photograph or so on the walls, and on the
table was a Bible, and a brown earthenware teapot, and a plate.

"Tom Wood's wife, that's neighbour next door to me," she said, "gave me
a pinch o' tea--an' I've just been 'avin it. Tom Woods, miss, 'as just
been took on by Muster Kedgers as one of the new under gardeners at the
Court."

Betty found her delightful. She made no complaints, and was evidently
pleased with the excitement of receiving a visitor. The truth was, that
in common with every other old woman, she had secretly aspired to being
visited some day by the amazing young lady from "Meriker." Betty had yet
to learn of the heartburnings which may be occasioned by an unconscious
favouritism. She was not aware that when she dropped in to talk to old
Doby, his neighbour, old Megworth, peered from behind his curtains, with
the dew of envy in his rheumy eyes.

"S'ems," he mumbled, "as if they wasn't nobody now in Stornham village
but Gaarge Doby--s'ems not." They were very fierce in their jealousy
of attention, and one must beware of rousing evil passions in the
octogenarian breast.

The young lady from "Meriker" had not so far had time to make a call at
any cottage in old Mrs. Welden's lane--and she had knocked just at old
Mrs. Welden's door. This was enough to put in good spirits even a less
cheery old person.

At first Betty wondered how she could with delicacy ask personal
questions. A few minutes' conversation, however, showed her that the
personal affairs of Sir Nigel's tenants were also the affairs of not
only himself, but of such of his r