comes in for the
title he'll pull it down and build 'ouses. I'm sure he ought to: it's
a shame seeing land wasted like that."

"Where is Lord Caranby now?"

"He lives in London and never comes near this place," said Thomas.

"Is Miss Loach friendly with him now?" "No, she ain't. He treated her
badly. She'd have been a better Lady Caranby than Miss Saul"--here
Thomas started and raised a finger. "Eh! wasn't that the front door
closing?"

All listened, but no sound could be heard. "Perhaps missus has gone to
walk in the garding," said cook, "she do that at times."

"Did you show 'ern out?" asked Thomas, looking at Susan.

"Only Mr. Clancy," she answered, "the others had gone before. I heard
what Miss Loach was saying. Mr. Clancy had quarrelled with Mrs. Herne
and she had gone away with Mr. Hale. Then Miss Loach gave it to him
hot and sent him away. She's all alone."

"I must have been mistaken about the door then," said he.

"Not at all," chimed in Mrs. Pill. "Missus is walking as she do do in
the garding, singing and adornin' self with flowers."

After this poetic flight of fancy on the part of the cook, the supper
ended. Thomas smoked a pipe and the housemaid cleared away. Mrs. Pill
occupied her time in putting her few straggling locks in curl-papers.

While Susan was assisting Geraldine, the bell rang. All started. "I
thought missus had gone to bed," cried the cook, getting up hurriedly.
"She'll be in a fine rage if she finds us up. Go to bed, Geraldine,
and you, Thomas. Susan, answer the bell. She don't like us not to be
gettin' our beauty sleep. Bless me it's eleving."

The clock had just struck as Susan left the kitchen, and the three
servants were bustling about so as to get to bed before their
sharp-eyed old mistress found them. Susan went down the stairs. The
door of the sitting-room was closed. She knocked but no voice told her
to enter. Wondering if the bell had been rung by mistake, Susan
knocked again, and again received no answer. She had a mind to retreat
rather than face the anger of Miss Loach. But remembering that the
bell had rung, she opened the door, determined to explain. Miss Loach
was seated in her usual chair, but leaning back with a ghastly face.
The glare of the electric lamp fixed in the ceiling, shone full on her
white countenance, and also on something else. The bosom of her purple
gown was disarranged, and the lace which adorned it was stained with
blood