an' much you care. She's likely to
be ill, moithered as _she_ is from mornin' to night, wi' folks as had
better be elsewhere.'

'What do you mean by behaving in this way?'

'Mean? Why I mean as the missis is a slavin' her life out an' a-sittin'
up o'nights, for folks as are better able to wait of _her_, i'stid o'
lyin' a-bed an' doin' nothin' all the blessed day, but mek work.'

'Leave the room and don't be insolent.'

'Insolent! I'd better be insolent than like what some folks is,--a-livin'
on other folks, an' bringin' a bad name on 'em into the bargain.'

Here Nanny flung out of the room, leaving the lady to digest this
unexpected breakfast at her leisure.

The Countess was stunned for a few minutes, but when she began to recall
Nanny's words, there was no possibility of avoiding very unpleasant
conclusions from them, or of failing to see her position at the Vicarage
in an entirely new light. The interpretation too of Nanny's allusion to a
'bad name' did not lie out of the reach of the Countess's imagination,
and she saw the necessity of quitting Shepperton without delay. Still,
she would like to wait for her brother's letter--no--she would ask Milly
to forward it to her--still better, she would go at once to London,
inquire her brother's address at his banker's, and go to see him without
preliminary.

She went up to Milly's room, and, after kisses and inquiries, said--'I
find, on consideration, dear Milly, from the letter I had yesterday, that
I must bid you good-bye and go up to London at once. But you must not let
me leave you ill, you naughty thing.'

'Oh no,' said Milly, who felt as if a load had been taken off her back,
'I shall be very well in an hour or two. Indeed, I'm much better now. You
will want me to help you to pack. But you won't go for two or three
days?'

'Yes, I must go to-morrow. But I shall not let you help me to pack, so
don't entertain any unreasonable projects, but lie still. Mr. Brand is
coming, Nanny says.'

The news was not an unpleasant surprise to Mr. Barton when he came home,
though he was able to express more regret at the idea of parting than
Milly could summon to her lips. He retained more of his original feeling
for the Countess than Milly did, for women never betray themselves to men
as they do to each other; and the Rev. Amos had not a keen instinct for
character. But he felt that he was being relieved from a difficulty, and
in the way that was easiest for him. Neither