ous look.

The man went, and Mrs. Wilkinson sat silent in the post-chaise for a
quarter of an hour. Then the servant returned, informing her that she
was to send in her message. His lordship had given directions at the
lodge that she was not to come up, and could not understand how it
had come to pass that the lady had forced her way to the hall-door.
At any rate, he would not see her till he knew what it was about.

Now it was impossible for Mrs. Wilkinson to explain the exact nature
of her very intricate case to Lord Stapledean's butler, and yet she
could not bring herself to give up the battle without making some
further effort. "It is about the vicarage at Hurst Staple," said she;
"the vicarage at Hurst Staple," she repeated, impressing the words
on the man's memory. "Don't forget, now." The man gave a look of
ineffable scorn, and then walked away, leaving Mrs. Wilkinson still
in the post-chaise.

And now came on an April shower, such as April showers are on the
borders of Westmoreland. It rained and blew; and after a while the
rain turned to sleet. The post-boy buttoned up his coat, and got
under the shelter of the portico; the horses drooped their heads, and
shivered. Mrs. Wilkinson wished herself back at Hurst Staple--or even
comfortably settled at Littlebath, as her son had once suggested.

"His lordship don't know nothing about the vicarage," bellowed out
the butler, opening the hall-door only half way, so that his face
just appeared above the lock.

"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" said Mrs. Wilkinson. "Just let me down into the
hall, and then I will explain it to you."

"Them 'orses 'll be foundered as sure as heggs," said the post-boy.

Mrs. Wilkinson at last succeeded in making her way into the hall,
and the horses were allowed to go round to the yard. And then at
last, after half a dozen more messages to and fro, she was informed
that Lord Stapledean would see her. So dreadful had been the contest
hitherto, that this amount of success was very grateful. Her feeling
latterly had been one of intense hostility to the butler rather than
to her son. Now that she had conquered that most savage Cerberus,
all would be pleasant with her. But, alas! she soon found that in
passing Cerberus she had made good her footing in a region as little
desirable as might be.

She was ushered into the same book-room in which Arthur had been
received, and soon found herself seated in the same chair, and on the
same spot. Lord Stapl