“Thank you, ma’am, I am extremely obliged,” answered Jacob. He left the conservatory, walking in his deliberate fashion through the drawing-room. In the lobby outside he came face to face with Hester Winsome. “Well?” she said, looking at him interrogatively. “Well?” he replied, drawing himself full up. “I saw you talking to my mistress,” said Hester. “Were you asking a favour?” “Yes and no,” replied Jacob. “One of my relations is ill, and I am anxious to go to town to see her. Mrs. Ferguson would not let me off because of all this fuss in connection with the big ball, so I went to Mrs. Rowton.” “How sly of you,” said Hester. “Of course, she, poor weakling, gave you leave.” “You ought not to speak of your mistress like that, Miss Winsome. Yes, she gave me leave. She is a kind-hearted young lady. I’m off to town in an hour. Shall I bring you a pretty trifle when I return?” “That’s as you please,” answered Hester, with a smile. “I may be going to town on my own account before long,” she added. “I am rather tired of Rowton Heights. It don’t seem the right sort of place for a girl like me. There’s nothing to excite one here—at least, nothing to excite one who has been used to London ways.” Jacob smiled. “You’ll have plenty of excitement next week,” he said, “when all the grand folks are down. The house will be chock full, like an egg full of meat.” “Yes, won’t it?” said Hester. “They’re putting up beds everywhere. Now, don’t it seem stupid to crowd people like that when the Queen Anne wing would hold three or four more of the guests? Why cannot beds be put in the Queen Anne wing?” “You are very unreasonable,” said Jacob. “How can a poor lady who is off her head be disturbed with company?” “Of course, I forgot,” answered the girl. “And the rats, too, might frighten the guests. Oh! it’s best as it is, no doubt.” Her eyes flashed in a knowing way. “By the way, Mr. Jacob,” she called out as the man was disappearing down one of the passages, “have you heard the latest news?” “No,” he said, arresting his steps as he spoke. “Why, it is this,” answered Hester, running up to him, “there’s been no end of a big burglary took place last night at Castle Stewart. The postman brought us the news this morning.” “I have not heard anything of it,” replied Jacob. “A burglary, did you say—not really?” “Yes, really, and a very big one. The burglars got in through one of the upper windows—they say they had rope ladders with them and all kinds of modern contrivances—and they broke open the safe in Lady Arabella’s dressing-room, and took off all her jewels and a lot of plate from the butler’s pantry besides. The police are scouring the country to try and catch some of the thieves.” “It is a good thing we have one of Clever’s safes here,” remarked Jacob. He stood quite silent for a moment, evidently thinking hard. Then he went to find Mrs. Ferguson to let her know that his young mistress had given him permission to take his holiday.