“Ta-ta, Mrs. Rock,” cried Willie after her: “see you again soon; and remember that the donkey is always ready. Now,” he added to himself, “I wonder why the dickens she is going that way instead of home to her loving Sammy? He’s a nasty mean beast, he is, and it’s a rum go her having married him at all, but it ain’t no affair of mine. All the same, I mean to let my dickies run down by the meres to-night, for I’m sure he can’t grudge an armful of rough grass to an old friend of his wife’s as has been the first to welcome her home. By the way, why ain’t the holy Samuel here, to welcome her home himself?” and Master Willie scratched his red head and departed speculating, with the full intention of pasturing his donkeys that night upon lands in the possession or hire of the said Samuel. At Monk’s Vale station Joan found a dog-cart waiting for her. When she had taken her seat she asked the groom if Mr. Levinger was ill. He replied that he didn’t rightly know, but that his master had kept the house almost ever since Miss Emma he meant Lady Graves had married, and that last night, feeling queer, he had sent for a doctor. Then Joan asked if Lady Graves was at Monk’s Lodge, and was informed that she and her husband were not expected home at Rosham from abroad till this night or the next morning. By this time they had reached the house, which was not more than half a mile distant from the station. The servant who opened the door took Joan to a bedroom and said that tea was waiting for her. When she was ready she went downstairs to the dining-room, where presently she received a message that Mr. Levinger would be glad to see her, and was shown to his room on the first floor. She found him seated in an armchair by a fire, although the weather was warm for June; and noticed at once that he was much changed since she had last seen him, his face being pale and thin and his form shrunken. His eyes, however, retained their brightness and intelligence, and his manner its vivacity. As she entered the room he attempted to rise to receive her, only to sink back into his chair with a groan, where for a while he remained speechless. “It is very good of you to come to see me, Joan,” he said presently. “Pray be seated.” “I am sorry to hear that you have not been well, sir,” she answered. “No, Joan, I have not; there never was a man further from health or much nearer to death than I am at this moment, and that is why I have sent for you, since what I have to say cannot be put off any longer. But you do not look very well yourself, Joan.” “I feel quite strong, thank you, sir. You know I had a bad illness, for you very kindly came to see me, and it has taken me a while to recover.”