'So have I, sir, and I will despatch it, by your leave, without your interference.' Jack put his hand on the gate and pushed it towards Bryda, but a hand, apparently as strong as his, pulled it back, with an oath. 'Wait one minute, Jack, wait till this gentleman is gone. He is speaking to me about--about--' Poor Bryda's voice broke down, and she hid her face in her hands. 'If _you_ wish it I _will_ wait,' Jack said. 'Do you wish me to wait?' A faint 'Yes' was the reply. 'Then I'll wait,' Jack said, but, glancing at the Squire, he added, 'If it were not for this wish of Miss Palmer's, sir, I would _not_ wait your pleasure; but her word is law to me. If it weren't,' he muttered, 'I'd knock you down.' An ironical laugh, with the words, 'Come, sir, be off!' was the only rejoinder, and then Jack strode away out of sight. 'Will that big sulky fellow eavesdrop?' he heard as he was departing, and the question was not likely to allay his wrath. The conversation lasted for more minutes than Jack's patience held out, and he fumed and chafed at the indignity passed on him. 'To be warned off by a brute like that!' he murmured. 'What right has he to do it?' Presently Betty's face appeared above the low wall which skirted the farmyard. 'Oh! Jack,' she exclaimed, 'Bryda has been talking to the young Squire ever so long. She sent me away. I do so wish she would come. It is all about that money and grandfather; but I don't like her to be alone with that man; he has a bad face. She has got Flick, but still I wish she would come.' 'Hang it all!' Jack said, 'I won't stand this another minute,' and he retraced his steps up the lane, reaching the down just as the Squire, with a pointer at his heels, was bowing low and waving his hand in farewell to Bryda. Jack was at her side in an instant. 'What does that fellow want?' Bryda had recovered her self-possession. 'He has promised to stay proceedings against grandfather for a month,' and the swift colour came to her face, and then vanishing, left it pale as death. 'What has he been saying to you?' Jack demanded, almost fiercely. 'Has he been frightening you to death--it looks like it.' 'Don't be angry, Jack; you should be glad. I have got a month's respite. I am tired, that is all. Come in to supper; Betty is sure to have something good to-night to try and tempt grandfather.' Jack was wondering when Bryda would ask what had been the result of his journey to Bristol. He had walked some twenty miles in her service, and yet she asked no questions about the letter. 'I have been to Bristol,' he began, 'and delivered your letter. Don't you want to know what Madam Lambert said?' 'Oh, my letter! Yes--will she have me?' But Bryda did not seem eager for an answer.