you doing there?" said the Squire, in a melancholy voice.

"Marking, Squire."

"Then you may as well save yourself the trouble, for the place will
belong to somebody else before the sap is up in those oaks."

"Now, Squire, don't you begin to talk like that, for I don't believe
it. That ain't a-going to happen."

"Ain't a-going to happen, you stupid fellow, ain't a-going to happen,"
answered the Squire with a dreary laugh. "Why, look there," and he
pointed to a dog-cart which had drawn up on the road in such a
position that they could see it without its occupants seeing them;
"they are taking notes already."

George looked and so did Ida. Mr. Quest was the driver of the dog-
cart, which he had pulled up in such a position as to command a view
of the Castle, and his companion--in whom George recognised a well-
known London auctioneer who sometimes did business in these parts--was
standing up, an open notebook in his hand, alternately looking at the
noble towers of the gateway and jotting down memoranda.

"Damn 'em, and so they be," said George, utterly forgetting his
manners.

Ida looked up and saw her father's eyes fixed firmly upon her with an
expression that seemed to say, "See, you wilful woman, see the ruin
that you have brought upon us!"

She turned away; she could not bear it, and that very night she came
to a determination, which in due course was communicated to Harold,
and him alone. That determination was to let things be for the
present, upon the chance of something happening by means of which the
dilemma might be solved. But if nothing happened--and indeed it did
not seem probable to her that anything would happen--then she would
sacrifice herself at the last moment. She believed, indeed she knew,
that she could always call Edward Cossey back to her if she liked. It
was a compromise, and like all compromises had an element of weakness;
but it gave time, and time to her was like breath to the dying.

"Sir," said George presently, "it's Boisingham Quarter Sessions the
day after to-morrow, ain't it?" (Mr. de la Molle was chairman of
Quarter Sessions.)

"Yes, of course, it is."

George thought for a minute.

"I'm a-thinking, Squire, that if I arn't wanting that day I want to go
up to Lunnon about a bit of business."

"Go up to London!" said the Squire; "why what are you going to do
there? You were in London the other day."

"Well, Squire," he answered, looking inexpressibly sly, "that ain't no