and he returned to the
carriage with a half-pleased, half-puzzled air.

My lady went on to a cluster of rude mud houses at the higher end of the
Common; cottages built, as they were occasionally at that day, of wattles
and clay, and thatched with sods. As far as we could make out from dumb
show, Lady Ludlow saw enough of the interiors of these places to make her
hesitate before entering, or even speaking to any of the children who
were playing about in the puddles. After a pause, she disappeared into
one of the cottages. It seemed to us a long time before she came out;
but I dare say it was not more than eight or ten minutes. She came back
with her head hanging down, as if to choose her way,--but we saw it was
more in thought and bewilderment than for any such purpose.

She had not made up her mind where we should drive to when she got into
the carriage again. John Footman stood, bare-headed, waiting for orders.

"To Hathaway. My dears, if you are tired, or if you have anything to do
for Mrs. Medlicott, I can drop you at Barford Corner, and it is but a
quarter of an hour's brisk walk home."

But luckily we could safely say that Mrs. Medlicott did not want us; and
as we had whispered to each other, as we sat alone in the coach, that
surely my lady must have gone to Job Gregson's, we were far too anxious
to know the end of it all to say that we were tired. So we all set off
to Hathaway. Mr. Harry Lathom was a bachelor squire, thirty or thirty-
five years of age, more at home in the field than in the drawing-room,
and with sporting men than with ladies.

My lady did not alight, of course; it was Mr. Lathom's place to wait upon
her, and she bade the butler,--who had a smack of the gamekeeper in him,
very unlike our own powdered venerable fine gentleman at Hanbury,--tell
his master, with her compliments, that she wished to speak to him. You
may think how pleased we were to find that we should hear all that was
said; though, I think, afterwards we were half sorry when we saw how our
presence confused the squire, who would have found it bad enough to
answer my lady's questions, even without two eager girls for audience.

"Pray, Mr. Lathom," began my lady, something abruptly for her,--but she
was very full of her subject,--"what is this I hear about Job Gregson?"

Mr. Lathom looked annoyed and vexed, but dared not show it in his words.

"I gave out a warrant against him, my lady, for theft,--that is all. You
a