Mrs. Armitage was cooling herself in the porch of the little inn when she saw her niece approaching. Hetty hurried her steps, and came panting to her side. "Aunt Fanny, is it true?" she gasped. "True? Yes, child, it's true," said Mrs. Armitage. "They're coming home. You come along in and stand in the shelter, Hetty. Seems to me you grow thinner and thinner." "Oh, aunt, never mind about my looks just now; have you heard anything else? How is he?" Mrs. Armitage looked behind her and lowered her voice. "They do say that Squire's as well as ever he wor," she remarked. "Why, he's going to stand for Grandcourt. In one way that's as it should be. We always had Awdreys in the House--we like to be represented by our own folk." "Will any one oppose him?" asked Hetty. "How am I to say? there's nothing known at present. He is to be nominated to-morrow; and that's what's bringing 'em home in double quick time." "Are you going to the Court to-night, aunt?" "I thought I'd run round for an hour just to see the carriage roll by, and get a glimpse of Squire and Madam, but I must hurry back, for there'll be a lot to be done here." "Shall I come and help you and uncle to-night?" Mrs. Armitage looked her niece all over. "That's a good thought," she said, "if your man will spare you." "Oh, I can ask him; I don't think he'll refuse." "Well, you're spry enough with your fingers and legs when you like. I can't stay out here talking any more, Het." Hetty came up close to her aunt, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Aunt Fanny," she said, "one word afore you goes in--Do you think it is safe, him coming back like this?" "Safe," echoed the elder woman in a tone hoarse with a queer mixture of crossness and undefined fear. "Squire's safe enough ef you can keep things to yourself." "Me?" echoed Hetty. "Do you think I can't hold my tongue?" "Your tongue may be silent, but there are other ways of letting out a secret. Ef ever there was a tell-tale face yours is one. You're the terror of my life with your aches and your pains, and your startings, as if you saw a shadow behind yer all the time. It's a good thing you don't live in the village. As to Vincent, pore man, he's as blind as a bat; he don't see, or he won't see, what's staring him in the face." "For God's sake, Aunt Fanny, what do you mean?" "I mean this, girl. Vincent's wife carries a secret, and she loves one she ought not to love." "Oh! Aunt Fanny, you rend my heart when you talk like that." "I won't again," said Mrs. Armitage, "but I had to speak out when you came to-day. It was my opportunity, and I had to take it. Queer stories will be spread ef you ain't very careful. You've nought to do with the Squire, Hetty. Go and see him to-night with the rest of 'em, and then be satisfied. You keep quiet at the farm now he's at the Court; don't you be seen a-talking to him or a-follerin' him about." "I won't, I won't." "Well, I thought I'd warn yer--now I must get back to my work."