Something in the tone of this last sentence which struck oddly on Kate Mellon's ear,--a soft tender tone of almost parental affection; a tone which seemed to bring back memory of past days. She looked up hurriedly, but Mr. Scadgers' swivel-eye was fixed on the wall above her head; and in the rest of his countenance there was no more emotion visible than on the face of a Dutch clock. Kate Mellon took out her desk and wrote the cheque. "There!" she said, handing it to him,--"there's your money; hand over the bills. All right! Now, two things more. One, you'll swear never to let Mr. Prescott know who paid this money. Good! The other, if ever he comes to you for help again--I don't think he will, mind; but if he does--you'll refuse him, and let me know." "That's what they all say," said Mr. Scadgers, "if they come again, refuse 'em;' and they do come again, and I don't refuse 'em,--that is if I think they're good for the money,--but I'll swear I'll do it for you." "I believe you," said Kate, simply. "Now, have some lunch before you go." "No, thank you," said Scadgers, "no lunch; but I should like a glass of wine to drink your health in." "You shall have it, and welcome," said she, ringing the bell; "and I'll have one with you, for I was at the dumb-jockey business when you came in, and it rather takes it out of one." When the wine was brought, Kate filled two glasses, and, taking up one, nodded to Mr. Scadgers. "Here's luck," said she, shortly. Mr. Scadgers took his glass, and said; "The best of luck to you in every thing, and God bless you, my--miss, I mean! And now, I've heard a lot about your stable and place--would you mind my going round them, before I go?" "Mind!" said Kate; "I'll take you myself." And they walked into the farm together. "It was as much as I could do," said Mr. Scadgers to himself, as, half an hour afterwards, he walked down the lane on his way back to town--"it was as much as I could do to prevent throwing my arms round her neck and telling her all about it. What a pretty creetur' it is; and what spirit! I suppose she's nuts on young Prescott, and they'll be gettin' married. Lord! that would be a rum start if he ever knew--but he won't know, nor any of 'em; we shall never let on. Woman of business too; keeps accounts I noticed, when she opened her desk; and all the place in such order; kept as neat as a drawing-room those stables. Well, that's one thing you did right, John Scadgers, and one you won't be sorry for some day."