The day was a particularly fine one, the sun shone brightly upon the little High Street. Effie walked quickly; she soon turned into a shady lane, the lane led her into the highroad. By and by she stopped at the gates of The Grange. The woman of the lodge came out when she saw her. This woman had been fond of Dr. Staunton, and she recognized Effie. Effie's little figure, her heavy black dress, her crepe hat, her white cheeks and dark eyes, all appealed with great pathos to the woman. She ran towards her with outstretched hands. "Miss Effie, my dear, you're welcome," she said. She caught Effie's little white hands in her hard, toil-worn ones. "You are welcome, Miss Effie," she repeated; "it is good of you to come. Eh, dear, but it goes to the heart to see you in that deep black! Come in and rest, my dear young lady--come in and rest." "I cannot just now, Mrs. Jones," replied Effie. "I am in a hurry--I want to go up to see the Squire on business." "And how is your mother, poor lady--how is she bearing up, my dear?" "Wonderfully," said Effie. "I'll come and see you another day, Mrs. Jones." "Eh, do! you'll be more than welcome. I long to hear all about the doctor, poor man, and how he went off at the end. The last words of the pious are always worth listening to. I'll be glad to hear particulars, if you can give me half an hour some time, Miss Effie." "Some time," said Effie. She walked on, trembling a little. The woman's words and her eager look of curiosity were dreadful to her; nevertheless, she knew that her father, under similar circumstances, would have been very patient with this woman. By and by she arrived at the heavy front door of the old Grange. She walked up the steps and rang the bell. The door was opened almost immediately by a servant in livery. He knew Effie, and asked her in. "Is the Squire at home?" she asked. "I am not sure, miss, but I'll inquire. Will you step in here while I go to ask?" The man opened the door of a little sitting room. Effie went in, and he closed it softly behind him. After what seemed a very short time, she heard eager steps coming along the hall--the room door was flung open, and Squire Harvey, accompanied by his wife, came in. Mrs. Harvey looked like a shadow--but her sweet face had a tender blush-rose color about it, her eyes had the intensely clear look which long illness gives; she was better, but she looked so frail and delicate that Effie's heart went out to her.