tled on his brow; and again he felt that in
solitude the passions feed upon the heart. As he thus walked along the
green lane, and the insect life of summer rustled audibly among the
shadowy hedges and along the thick grass that sprang up on either side,
he came suddenly upon a little group that arrested all his attention.

It was a woman, clad in rags, bleeding, and seemingly insensible,
supported by the overseer of the parish and a labourer.

"What is the matter?" asked Maltravers.

"A poor woman has been knocked down and run over by a gentleman in a
gig, your honour," replied the overseer. "He stopped, half an hour ago,
at my house to tell me that she was lying on the road; and he has given
me two sovereigns for her, your honour. But, poor cretur! she was too
heavy for me to carry her, and I was forced to leave her and call Tom to
help me."

"The gentleman might have stayed to see what were the consequences
of his own act," muttered Maltravers, as he examined the wound in the
temple, whence the blood flowed copiously.

"He said he was in a great hurry, your honour," said the village
official, overhearing Maltravers. "I think it was one of the grand folks
up at the parsonage; for I know it was Mr. Merton's bay horse,--he is a
hot 'un!"

"Does the poor woman live in the neighbourhood? Do you know her?" asked
Maltravers, turning from the contemplation of this new instance of
Vargrave's selfishness of character.

"No; the old body seems quite a stranger here,--a tramper, or beggar, I
think, sir. But it won't be a settlement if we take her in; and we can
carry her to the Chequers, up the village, your honour."

"What is the nearest house,--your own?"

"Yes; but we be so busy now!"

"She shall not go to your house, and be neglected; and as for the
public-house, it is too noisy: we must move her to the Hall."

"Your honour!" ejaculated the overseer, opening his eyes.

"It is not very far; she is severely hurt. Get a hurdle, lay a mattress
on it. Make haste, both of you; I will wait here till you return."

The poor woman was carefully placed on the grass by the road-side,
and Maltravers supported her head, while the men hastened to obey his
orders.

CHAPTER III.

ALSE from that forked hill, the boasted seat
Of studious Peace and mild Philosophy,
Indignant murmurs mote be heard to threat.--WEST.

MR. CLEVELAND wanted to enrich one of his letters with a quotation from
Ariosto, which he but imperf