When they had gone through the house, and the young girl had indicated what rooms she should occupy, they returned downstairs. There was an old man in the hall, his cap in his hand, his long white hair falling on the neck of his fine Sunday coat, which was considerably too small for him. He regarded Annie Brunel with a curious look, and said to her, as she approached— "Pardon, my lady; I thought I’d come up and see as it were all true. And true it is—true it is." "That is Brooks," said Mrs. Tillotson. The girl bade the old man go into the great drawing-room. "You don’t remember me," he said. "I remember you; but as you came down them stairs, I’d ’a sworn it wasn’t you. If they hadn’t told me you were coming, I should ha’ said it was a ghost—the ghost o’ your mother as come down them stairs." "You remember her?" she said, with an eager bright look. "Ay, and you too. You don’t remember me; but I nearly killed you once—when your pony tried to take the upper ’and on ye, and I ’it ’im, and afoor I knew where I was——" "But where did all this happen?" "Why, in Switzerland, where you and your mother was. I’ve good eyes; I can remember. And there’s lots more o’ the old folk as might, only they’ve turned ’em all off, and brought in new uns, as doesn’t know nothin’ o’ the family, or the Place. It was your father as said I should live here till I died, and then they can turn me out, if they like; and I came up to see if it was true you had come home, and whether you’d want me to go with the rest. If you mean it, say it, plump and plain. I’m not afear’d to go; I can earn my living as well as younger men I knows on about this ’ere very place——" "My good man, don’t disquiet yourself. You will never have to leave your house through me. But I want you to tell me all you know about my mother—everything. Won’t you sit down? And you will have some wine?" Mr. Cayley rang for some wine; and Annie Brunel herself poured some into a glass, and gave it to the old man. "I like the wine—and it’s not the first time by forty year as I’ve tasted his lordship’s wine—but I can’t abide them big blazing fires as melts a man’s marrow." "Come outside, then," said the girl; "the day is pleasant enough out-of-doors." "Ah, that’s better," he said; and his keen fresh face brightened up as he stepped outside into the brisk cold air, with the brilliant sunshine lying on the crisp snow.