Mr. Chainmail could find no trace of the Captain. Indeed, he sought him but in one direction, which was that leading to the farm; where he arrived in due time, and found Miss Susan alone. He laid the newspaper on the table, as was his custom, and proceeded to converse with the young lady: a conversation of many pauses, as much of signs as of words. The young lady took up the paper, and turned it over and over, while she listened to Mr. Chainmail, whom she found every day more and more agreeable, when suddenly her eye glanced on something which made her change colour, and dropping the paper on the ground, she rose from her seat, exclaiming: “Miserable must she be who trusts any of your faithless sex! never, never, never, will I endure such misery twice.” And she vanished up the stairs. Mr. Chainmail was petrified. At length, he cried aloud: “Cornelius Agrippa must have laid a spell on this accursed newspaper;” and was turning it over, to look for the source of the mischief, when Mrs. Ap Llymry made her appearance. _Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—What have you done to poor dear Miss Susan? she is crying ready to break her heart. _Mr. Chainmail_.—So help me the memory of Richard Coeur-de-Lion, I have not the most distant notion of what is the matter. _Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—Oh, don’t tell me, sir; you must have ill-used her. I know how it is. You have been keeping company with her, as if you wanted to marry her; and now, all at once, you have been insulting her. I have seen such tricks more than once, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. _Mr. Chainmail_.—My dear madam, you wrong me utterly. I have none but the kindest feelings and the most honourable purposes towards her. She has been disturbed by something she has seen in this rascally paper. _Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—Why, then, the best thing you can do is to go away, and come again tomorrow. _Mr. Chainmail_.—Not I, indeed, madam. Out of this house I stir not, till I have seen the young lady, and obtained a full explanation. _Mrs. Ap Llymry_.—I will tell Miss Susan what you say. Perhaps she will come down. Mr. Chainmail sat with as much patience as he could command, running over the paper, from column to column. At length he lighted on an announcement of the approaching marriage of Lady Clarinda Bossnowl with Mr. Crotchet the younger. This explained the Captain’s discomposure, but the cause of Miss Susan’s was still to be sought: he could not know that it was one and the same. Presently, the sound of the longed-for step was heard on the stairs; the young lady reappeared, and resumed her seat: her eyes showed that she had been weeping. The gentleman was now exceedingly puzzled how to begin, but the young lady relieved him by asking, with great simplicity: “What do you wish to have explained, sir?”