siness--he was killed," said Nancy. And
forthwith, rightly or wrongly, she, garrulous with old age, told all the
history.

It was an exciting interview, lasting until the shades of evening
surprised them. Miss Kate Dancox might have gone roving to the other end
of the globe, for all the attention given her just then. Poor Alice
cried and sighed, and trembled inwardly and outwardly. "To think that it
should just be to this place that I should come as governess, and to the
house of Captain Monk!" she wailed. "Surely he did not _kill_
papa!--intentionally!"

"No, no; nobody has ever thought that," disclaimed Nancy. "The Captain
is a passionate man, as is well known, and they quarrelled, and a hot
blow, not intentional, must have been struck between 'em. And all
through them blessed chimes, Miss Alice! Not but that they be sweet to
listen to--and they be going to ring again this New Year's Eve."

Drawing her warm cloak about her, Nancy Cale set off towards her
cottage. Alice West sat on in the sheltered porch, utterly bewildered.
Never in her life had she felt so agitated, so incapable of sound and
sober thought. _Now_ it was explained why the bow-windowed sitting-room
at the Vicarage would always strike her as being familiar to her memory;
as though she had at some time known one that resembled it, or perhaps
seen one like it in a dream.

"Well, I'm sure!"

The jesting salutation came from Harry Carradyne. Despatched in search
of the truants, he had found Kate at the Vicarage, making much of the
last new baby there, and devouring a sumptuous tea of cakes and jam.
Miss West? Oh, Miss West was sitting in the church porch, talking to old
Nancy Cale, she said to Harry.

"Why! What is it?" he exclaimed in dismay, finding that the burst of
emotion which he had taken to be laughter, meant tears. "What has
happened, Alice?"

She could no more have kept the tears in than she could
help--presently--telling him the news. He sat down by her and held her
close to him, and pressed for it. She was the daughter of George West,
who had died in the dispute with Captain Monk in the dining-room at the
Hall so many years before, and who was lying here in the corner of the
churchyard; and she had never, never known it!

Mr. Carradyne was somewhat taken to; there was no denying it; chiefly by
surprise.

"I thought your father was a soldier, Alice--Colonel West; and died when
serving in India. I'm sure it was said so when you came."