rder?'

"'Law bless you, miss, whatever put such horrors in your head?'

"'She was washing her hands.'

"'Ah, so she does, poor dear! But--murder! And dear little Miss
Margaret, that wouldn't go to hurt a fly!'

"'Miss Margaret?'

"'Eh, she died at seven year. Squire Kendall's only daughter; and
that's over twenty year ago. I was her nurse, miss, and I know--
diphtheria it was; she took it down in the village.'

"'But how do you know it is Margaret?'

"'Those hands--why, how could I mistake, that used to be her nurse?'

"'But why does she wash them?'

"'Well, miss, being always a dainty child--and the house-work, you
see--'

"I took a long breath. 'Do you mean to tell me that all this tidying
and dusting--' I broke off. 'Is it _she_ who has been taking this care
of me?'

"Mrs. Carkeek met my look steadily.

"'Who else, miss?'

"'Poor little soul!'

"'Well now'--Mrs. Carkeek rubbed my candlestick with the edge of her
apron--'I'm so glad you take it like this. For there isn't really
nothing to be afraid of--is there?' She eyed me wistfully. 'It's my
belief she loves you, miss. But only to think what a time she must have
had with the others!'

"'The others?' I echoed.

"'The other tenants, miss: the ones afore you.'

"'Were they bad?'

"'They was awful. Didn't Farmer Hosking tell you? They carried on
fearful--one after another, and each one worse than the last."

"'What was the matter with them? Drink?'

"'Drink, miss, with some of 'em. There was the Major--he used to go mad
with it, and run about the coombe in his nightshirt. Oh, scandalous!
And his wife drank too--that is, if she ever _was_ his wife. Just think
of that tender child washing Up after their nasty doings!'

"I shivered.

"'But that wasn't the worst, miss--not by a long way. There was a pair
here--from the colonies, or so they gave out--with two children, a boy
and gel, the eldest scarce six. Poor mites!'

"'Why, what happened?'

"'They beat those children, miss--your blood would boil!--_and_ starved,
_and_ tortured 'em, it's my belief. You could hear their screams, I've
been told, away back in the high-road, and that's the best part of half
a mile. Sometimes they was locked up without food for days together.
But it's my belief that little Miss Margaret managed to feed them
somehow. Oh, I can see her, creeping to the door and comforting!'

"'But perhaps she never showed herself when these awful people we