"You should see her jagged-out old red shawl," cried Molly, triumphantly. "All the red a'most washed out of it, and the edges in tatters. _I_ know a tramp when I sees one: and the worst of all tramps is them that do the tricks with clean hands and snow-white cap-borders." The theme lasted us all the afternoon. I held my tongue, for it was of no use contending against the stream. It was getting dusk when Cole called in, on his way from the Coneys. The Squire laid the grievance before him, demanding whether he had ever heard of two people so simple as I and the mother. "What did she say her name was?" asked Cole. "Nutten?--of Islip? Are you sure she did not say Norton?" "She said Nutt'n. We interpreted it into Nutten." "Yes, Johnny, that's how she would say it. I'll lay a guinea it's old Granny Norton." "Granny Norton!" echoed the Squire. "She is respectable." "Respectable, honest, upright as the day," replied Cole. "I have a great respect for old Mrs. Norton. She's very poor now; but she was not always so." "She told us this morning that she lived in the cottage by the dung-heap," I put in. "Exactly: she does so. And a nice dung-heap it is; the disgrace of Islip," added Cole. "And you mean to say, Cole, that you know this woman--that she's not a tramp, but Mrs. Norton?" spoke the pater. "I know Mrs. Norton of Islip," he answered. "I saw her pass my window this morning: she seemed to be coming from the railway-station. It was no tramp, Squire." "How was she dressed?" asked Mrs. Todhetley. "Dressed? Well, her shawl was red, and her bonnet black. I've never seen her dressed otherwise, when abroad, these ten years past." "And--has she a daughter in service at Worcester?" "Yes, I think so. Yes, I am sure so. It's Susan. Oh, it is the same person: you need not doubt it." "Then what the deuce did Luke Macintosh mean by bringing word back from Islip that she was not known there?" fiercely demanded the Squire, turning to me. "But Luke said he asked for her by the name of Nutt--Mrs. Nutt. I questioned him about it this afternoon, sir, and he said he understood Nutt to have been the name we gave him." This was very unsatisfactory as far as the earring went. (And we ascertained later that poor Mrs. Norton _was_ Mrs. Norton, and had been suspected wrongly.) For, failing the tramp view of the case, who could have sold the earring to the professional gentleman in Worcester? "Cripp knows what he is about; never fear," observed the Squire. "Now that he has the case well in hand, he is sure to pull it successfully through." "Yes, you may trust Cripp," said the doctor. "And I hope, Mrs. Todhetley, you will soon be gladdened by the sight of your earring again." And Cole went out, telling us we were going to have a thaw. Which we could have told him, for it had already set in, and the snow was melting rapidly. * * * * *