My head was full of Lizzy Dene, and I thought the time had come for me to speak. Ah, what would I not tell him in the bond of confidence that seemed to be established between us. "But, Mr. Chandos—suppose, for argument's sake—that he has an agent in the house; suppose that it is a woman, that agent may be transacting a little business on her own account while she does his." Mr. Chandos came and stood before me. "Have you a motive in saying this?" "Yes. I think, I do think, if there is one, that it is Lizzy Dene." Of course, having said so much, I told all. Of the interview that some one (I suspected Lizzy Dene) had held with Edwin Barley in the grounds; the chance meeting they had held that afternoon. Mr. Chandos was terribly displeased, but still he could not—I saw it—be brought to believe that it was Dene. "You have great faith in her, Mr. Chandos?" "I have, because I believe Lizzy Dene to be of true and honest nature; I do not think her capable of acting as a spy, or any other false part. She is an inveterate gossip; she is superstitious, and looks after ghosts; but I believe her to be faithful to the backbone." It was no use to contend: he had his opinion, I had mine. To look at Lizzy's face, to listen to her voice, I should have thought her honest too; but I could not shut my eyes to facts and circumstances. Mr. Chandos rang for Hill. "I want to say a word to Lizzy Dene, Hill; incidentally, you understand. Can you contrive to send her here on some ostensible errand?" Hill nodded her head and withdrew. Presently Lizzy Dene came in with a knock and a curtsey; she went to the sideboard and began looking in it for something that appeared difficult to find. Mr. Chandos, standing with his back to the fire, suddenly accosted her; she had got her head nearly inside one of the sideboard cupboards. "How long have you known Mr. Edwin Barley, Lizzy?" "Known who, sir, did you ask?" she returned, standing up and looking round at him. "Mr. Edwin Barley." "I don't know him at all, sir," she replied, after a minute's pause given apparently to surprise and consideration. "Not but what I seem to have heard that name—lately, too." "He is the new tenant at the house outside the gates." "Dear! yes, to be sure! Two of the men were talking of him one day; that was the name, for I remember I said it put me in mind of the fields. I have seen him once or twice sir; a short, dark man." "Where did you first see him?" "It was coming home from church one Sunday, sir. We were crossing the road to the gates, me and Robin, and Harriet, when I noticed a swarthy gentleman standing stock-still and staring at us. 'I hope he'll know us again,' said I; 'he's ugly enough.' 'Hush!' says Robin, 'that's master's new tenant at the house there!'" "Have you spoken to him?" inquired Mr. Chandos.