"No, Sir," replied the old woman, "it is not that. But I see you do not recollect me--and, indeed, how should you! It is a long time since we first met." Beauchamp gazed at her for a moment in silence, and then said, "I think I do remember having seen you somewhere before I met you here. Your face struck me as familiar to my recollection when first I saw you; but I cannot remember where I saw it long ago. Were you ever in India?" "Oh! no, my lord, it was not there," answered Widow Lamb; "when first I saw you, you were quite a young gentleman; the Honourable Charles St. Leger, they called you; and you had come down with Captain Moreton, your cousin, to shoot on the grounds of his great-aunt, Miss Moreton." Beauchamp's face turned somewhat pale, and his fine broad brow contracted; but he did not speak, and the old woman continued, "Do you not recollect, my lord, Davie Lamb the grieve, as they called him, and your coming down with a gay party to the grieve's house, one day? It was the eleventh of August, twelve years ago this summer; and the lady was with you, Miss Charlotte Hay, as they called her--" "Hush! hush!" cried Beauchamp, almost fiercely; "do not mention her name in my hearing. You do not know--you do not know, good woman--" "Oh yes, my lord, I do," answered Widow Lamb; "I know more than you think--more than you know, perhaps, yourself. I can tell you many things about her." "Tell me nothing," said Beauchamp, sternly; "you can say nothing of her conduct, infamous and bad, that I do not know or do not guess. I wish never to hear her name again;" and he turned once more towards the stairs. "Well, I beg your pardon, my lord," said Widow Lamb, with a disappointed look, "I did not mean to vex you, but if ever you should wish to hear more, I can tell you better than any one; for there is nobody now living knows so much as I do, and I think--" The conclusion of her sentence was wanting, for some one opened the cottage door, which had not been bolted since Stephen Gimlet had gone out. The next moment, the head of Mr. Slattery appeared, and entering with an insinuating smile, the worthy surgeon saluted Beauchamp reverentially, saying, "I met my good friend Wolf, Mr. Beauchamp, and was sorry to hear that Captain Hayward is not so well. But I have got good news for him, and you too. No more need of playing at bo-peep. I found Mr. Wittingham so much better this morning, that I have ventured publicly to pronounce him out of danger." "Thank God for that!" said Beauchamp; "but we had better go up and see Hayward, who seems to me somewhat feverish."