side, and fastening Joyce's cloak, seemed
only anxious to get her off as speedily as possible. It was a very
inconvenient episode; and if Mrs. More were the worse for the excitement
it would be very disastrous. Secretly Miss Frowde wished she could get
rid of Charlotte too, but as she only wept and moaned, and made no
attempt to put her things together, Miss Frowde refrained from urging
her to do so. Miss Frowde was not unkind or unfeeling, she was simply
and absolutely devoted to Mrs. More; and, indeed, it was well that she
was always at hand to perform the hundred and one kindly offices, which
the spoiled and pampered domestics neglected.

Joyce was soon ready, Charlotte clinging to her to the last, and
following her to the hall, with sobs and tears.

Nevertheless, as the gig drove off, and the wheels crunched the gravel
on the drive, Charlotte returned to her room to bathe her eyes and
smooth her hair, and soon returned with a woe-begone face to the
sitting-room, and received, with some complacency, the condolences of
the pale-faced curate in the corner, sharing his hymn-book when the
family service of praise and prayer began, with which all gatherings
closed at Barley Wood.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IX.

A DARK CLOUD OVER FAIR ACRES.

"How did it happen, Thomas? _Tell_ me, Thomas?"

"It's them Mendip fellows," he said. "The master rode to Chewton
yesterday, and somewhere about nine o'clock Mavis come home with no one
on his back. We knew summat was amiss, and we set out with lant'uns, the
mistress and I----"

"Mother went!"

"Yes; we couldn't keep her back. We was wandering about most of the
night. About eight o'clock this morning a cart comed along, and there
was the master brought home more dead than alive by one of farmer
Scott's carters."

"He is alive, then; oh! he is alive?"

"Well, yes; he was when I comed off," Thomas said, doubtfully.

"And why did not you come for me before? Oh! you should have sent
before. Oh, Thomas! Thomas!"

"Well," said Thomas, "we've had so much running about for doctors; and
Mavis ain't much good. We was short of hands and horses."

"Had he had a fall?" Joyce asked, "a fall from Mavis?"

"Aye, I dare say; but he was knocked off by a blow of a stone or summat.
There's a hole in his temple, just cut clean by a stone so they say."

"Oh, father! oh, father!" Joyce murmured.

"There's a lot of folks come to see after him. Mr. Paget and Squire
Bennett, and th