as the property's left to him, I suppose?" broke in
Allison, jocosely.

Burney turned his shoulder slightly towards the speaker, and went on,
regardless of the interruption--

"Mr. Smith says as the house up there, and all the property, goes to a
young fellow not more than thirty, of the same name as the old squire;
some third cousin or other."

"Hearsay! just hearsay!" ejaculated Allison, contemptuously. "Who's
seen him, I should like to know? Seein's believin', they say."

"Mr. Smith has," said Burney, a ring of triumph in his voice. "He were
there when old Mr. Lessing died."

There was silence for a moment. The evidence seemed conclusive, and
Allison's discomfiture complete; but, as the forge was the place where
the village gossips gathered every day, it was felt to be wise to keep
on good terms with the owner.

"Seems as if it might be true," said Macdonald, casting a timid glance
at the blacksmith.

"If it is, why wern't he here, to-day, then?" asked Allison, gruffly.

"Not knowin', can't say," Burney answered with a laugh.

"Maybe he'll be comin' to live here," said another.

"He can't! I can tell you that much; there ain't a house he could live
in," asserted Allison. "His own place is let, you see, to the
Websters--whom Burney there works for,--and he can't turn 'em out, as
they have it on lease; and a good thing too. We don't want no resident
squire ridin' round and pryin' into everything. The old one kept
hisself to hisself, and, as long as the rents was paid regular, he
didn't trouble much about us; and there was always a pound for the
widows every Christmas. Trust me, it's better to have your landlord
livin' in London, and not looking about the place more than once a
year. Did Mr. Smith say what the young one looked like, Burney?"

The question was asked a little reluctantly.

"No; but he thinks he's a bit queer in his notions. He asked him
whether he'd be likely to want his services; and Mr. Lessing laughed
quite loud, and said, one nice old woman to cook and do for him was all
he should require now, or at any time in his life. Mr. Smith ain't
sure but what he's a Socialist."

"I don't rightly know the meaning of it?" said Macdonald,
instinctively, turning to the blacksmith for an explanation.

"It may be a good thing, or it mayn't," declared Allison. "I take it
that a Socialist means one as would take from those as has plenty and
give to those who has nothing. We're born ekal