ntal
mystery, not a bad copy of our old acquaintance, Mr. Charles--"what if
the--the individual should not be an old lady at all?"

"What! The old gentleman's wife?"

"Wife? Ahem! more jumping at conclusions. No; let us keep on the safe
side, and call her the--individual. In short; the owner of that grey
silk gown I saw hanging up in the kitchen. I've seen it again."

"The grey gown! when and where?"

"This morning, early. I walked after it across the Flat, a good way
behind, though; for I thought that it--well, let me say SHE--might not
like to be watched or followed. She was trotting along very fast, and
she carried a little basket--I fancy a basket of eggs."

"Capital housekeeper! excellent wife!"

"Once more--I have my doubts on that latter fact. She walked a great
deal quicker and merrier than any wife ought to walk when her husband
is ill!"

I could not help laughing at John's original notions of conjugal duty.

"Besides, Mrs. Tod always calls her invalid 'the old gentleman!' and I
don't believe this was an elderly lady."

"Nay, old men do sometimes marry young women."

"Yes, but it is always a pity; and sometimes not quite right.
No,"--and I was amused to see how gravely and doggedly John kept to his
point--"though this lady did not look like a sylph or a
wood-nymph--being neither very small nor very slight, and having a
comfortable woollen cloak and hood over the grey silk gown--still, I
don't believe she's an old woman, or married either."

"How can you possibly tell? Did you see her face?"

"Of course not," he answered, rather indignantly. "I should not think
it manly to chase a lady as a schoolboy does a butterfly, for the mere
gratification of staring at her. I stayed on the top of the Flat till
she had gone indoors."

"Into Rose Cottage?"

"Why--yes."

"She had, doubtless, gone to fetch new-laid eggs for her--I mean for
the sick gentleman's breakfast. Kind soul!"

"You may jest, Phineas, but I think she is a kind soul. On her way
home I saw her stop twice; once to speak to an old woman who was
gathering sticks; and again, to scold a lad for thrashing a donkey."

"Did you hear her?"

"No; but I judge from the lad's penitent face as I passed him. I am
sure she had been scolding him."

"Then she's not young, depend upon it. Your beautiful young creatures
never scold."

"I'm not so sure of that," said John, meditatively. "For my part, I
should rather not cheat myself,