"Every unhappy syllable of it, sir; more than my lady knows herself," whispered Hill. "She mentioned one or two particulars to me which I'm sure we had never known; and she said she could tell my lady more than that." "That is extraordinary," observed Mr. Chandos, in the same subdued tone. "Who is this Mrs. Penn? Whence could she have heard anything?" "From Mrs. Sackville. You must remember her, sir. She stayed a week with us about that time." "This comes of my mother's having made a confidant of Mrs. Sackville!" he muttered. "I always thought Mrs. Sackville a chattering woman. But it does not account for Mrs. Penn's knowing the particulars that my mother does not know," he added, after a pause. "I shall be curious to see Mrs. Penn." "That's just the question I put to her, sir: where Mrs. Sackville could have learnt these details. Mrs. Penn answered that she had them from Sir Thomas himself. Therefore, I conclude, Sir Thomas must have revealed to her what he spared my lady." Mr. Chandos shook his head with a proud, repellant air. "I don't believe it, Hill. However Mrs. Sackville might have learnt them, rely upon it it was not from Sir Thomas. She was no favourite of his." "Misfortunes never come singly," resumed Hill, quitting the subject with a sort of grunt. "Mrs. Freeman could not have fallen ill at a worse time." "And now I am disabled! Temporarily, at least." "Oh, well, sir, let's hope for the best," cried she, getting up from her knees. "When troubles come, the only plan is to look them steadily in the face, and meet them bravely." "It is rather curious, though," cried Mr. Chandos, looking at Hill. "What is, sir?" "That I should be laid aside now. It has been so each time. There's something more than chance in it." Hill appeared to understand. I did not. As she was quitting the room, Hickens came in. "Mr. Dexter has called, sir," he said. "Would you like to see him?" "Does he want anything particular?" asked Mr. Chandos. "No business, sir. He heard of this accident to you, and hurried here," he says. "Let him come in. You need not leave us, Miss Hereford," he added to me, for I was rising. "Dexter will thank you for a cup of tea." "Well, now, Mr. Chandos, how was this?" cried the agent, as he bustled in, wiping his red face. Mr. Dexter gave me the idea of being always in a hurry. "I can hardly tell you," replied Mr. Chandos. "I don't quite know myself." "News was brought into my office that Mr. Chandos's horse had thrown him, and he was supposed to be dying. So I caught up my hat and came rushing off. Hickens says it is only an injury to the ankle." "And that's enough, Dexter, for it is keeping me a prisoner. However, it might have been as you heard, so I must not grumble. The question is, what ill-working jade caused it?" "Ill-working jade?" repeated Mr. Dexter. "Was it not an accident? I don't understand."