lue coat, bright buttons,
and large buff waistcoat.

Bryda closed the door behind her and said,--

'I cannot come out to-day, Jack, it is raining so hard.'

'I know that. Can't I speak to you here a minute?'

'Mr Lambert is gone out for the day. Yes, you may come into his study.
Is anything wrong, Jack?' she asked, looking anxiously into his face.

'What have you got to do with that brute of a Squire Bayfield? I know it
was he you were talking to t'other day. Don't have aught to do with him
or you'll rue it, I tell you. You will--'

'I don't know why you should be so cross, Jack,' Bryda said, assuming a
jesting air. 'I shall sing you the old rhyme,--

Crosspatch, draw the latch,
Sit by the fire and spin.'

'Don't be silly, Bryda. It is no laughing matter.'

'No, perhaps it isn't,' Bryda replied, 'but I have had a letter from my
dear Bet, which the carrier brought, which will please you, or _ought_
to please you.'

Bryda plunged her little hand into her deep pocket and drew out Betty's
letter. Betty had not the gift of either penmanship or composition, and
this letter had cost her much trouble.

'Here, read what Bet says,' Bryda exclaimed, holding out the letter to
Jack.

'No, thank you. I don't want to read it.'

'Then I shall read it for you,' Bryda exclaimed, 'you stupid old Jack.'

How pretty she looked as she stood before Jack with the open letter, her
face flushed with the most delicate crimson, her eyes sparkling as she
began,--

'DEAR BRYDA,--This leaves me well, as I hope it finds you at
present. Dear Bryda, the young Squire, Mr Bayfield, came over
here last evening. He was as kind as he could be. Grandfather
is not to trouble about the money for another few months. The
Squire says he won't press it, and so we can go on as we are
till next Easter. Dear Bryda, I think the Squire was
tender-hearted when he saw grandfather so old and broken. I
don't wonder. He looks ten years older since it came out about
the money and our poor father. That's what cuts him to the
heart--'

Bryda sighed as she read these words, and Jack was touched. He had been
cross-grained, he knew, but nevertheless he would gladly have got the
Squire at that moment in his hands and thrashed him without mercy.

'That's all in the letter,' Bryda said. 'There's only love and kisses,
and a few words written below to say grandfather had eaten a good supper
and was more