The woman went away with grateful tears in her eyes. And Mrs. Gass sat on and enjoyed the sunshine. Just then Mary Dallory came by in her little low pony-carriage. She often drove about in it alone. Seeing Mrs. Gass, she drew up. That lady, without any ceremony, went out in her cap and stood talking. "I hear you have left the Hall, my dear," she said, when the gossip was coming to an end. "Ages ago," replied Miss Dallory. "Frank is at home again, and wanted me." "How did you enjoy your visit on the whole?" "Pretty well. It was not very lively, especially after Sir Nash was taken ill." "He is better, Mr. Richard tells me," said the elder lady. "Yes; he sits up now. I went to see him yesterday." "Captain Bohun looks but poorly still." "His illness was a bad one. Fancy his having jaundice. I thought it was only old people who had that." "My dear, it attacks young and old. Once the liver gets out of order, there's no telling. Captain Bohun was born in India; and they are more liable to liver complaint, it's said, than others. You are driving alone to-day, as usual," continued Mrs. Gass. "I like to be independent. Frank won't show himself in this little chaise; he says it is no better than a respectable wheelbarrow; and I'm sure I am not going to be troubled with a groom at my side." "If all tales told are true, you'll soon run a chance of losing your independence," rejoined Mrs. Gass. "People say a certain young lady, not a hundred miles at this moment from, my elbow, is likely to give her heart away." Instead of replying, Mary Dallory blushed violently. Observant Mrs. Gass saw and noticed it. "Then it is true!" she exclaimed. "What's true?" asked Mary. "That you are likely to be married." "No, it is not." "My dear, you may as well tell me. You know me well; I'll keep good counsel." "But I have nothing to tell you. How can I imagine what you mean?" "'Twasn't more than a hint I had: that Captain Bohun--Sir Arthur as he will be--was making up his mind to have Miss Dallory, and she to have him. Miss Mary, is it so?" "Did madam tell you that?" "Madam wouldn't be likely to tell me--all of us in Dallory are so much dust under her feet; quite beneath being spoken to. No: 'twas her maid, Parrit, dropped it to me. She had heard it through madam, though." Mary Dallory laughed a little and flicked the ear of the rough Welsh pony. "I fancy madam would like it," she said. "Who wouldn't?" rejoined Mrs. Gass. "I put the question to Richard North--Whether there was anything in it? He answered there might be; he knew it was wished for." "Richard North said that, did he? Of course, so it might be--and may be--for anything he can tell." "But, my dear Miss Mary, is it so?" "Well--to tell you the truth, the offer has not yet been made. When it comes, why then--I dare say it will be all right." "Meaning that you'll accept him."