"I don't care what it is about--the fellow has no business to be prowling here, on my father's grounds; and he _shan't_ be, without my knowing what it's for. I'll watch madam's movements." "What do you think it can mean?" "Mean! Why, that the individual is some poor relation of hers, come to drain as much of my father's money out of her as he can. _She_ is the one to blame. I wonder how she dare encourage him!" "Perhaps she can't help herself." "Not help herself? Don't show yourself a fool, Johnny. An honest-minded, straightforward woman would appeal to my father in any annoyance of this sort, or to me, in his absence, and say 'Here's So-and-so come down upon us, asking for help, can we give it him?'--and there's no doubt the Squire _would_ give it him; he's soft enough for anything." It was of no use contending. I did not see it quite in that light, but Tod liked his own opinion. He threw up his head with a haughty jerk. "You have tried to defend Mrs. Todhetley before, in trifling matters, Johnny; don't attempt it now. Would any good woman, say any _lady_, if you will, subject herself to this kind of thing?--hold private meetings with a man--allow him to come tapping at her sitting-room window at night? No; not though he were her own brother." "Tod, it may be her brother. She would never do anything wrong willingly." "Shut up, Johnny. She never had a brother." Of course I shut up forthwith, and went across the field by Tod's side in silence, his strides wide and indignant, his head up in the air. Mrs. Todhetley was hearing Lena read when we got in, and looked as if she had never been out that morning. * * * * * Some days went on. The man remained near, for he was seen occasionally, and the servants began to talk. One remarked upon him, wondering who he was; another remarked upon him, speculating on what he did there. In a quiet country place, a dodging stranger excites curiosity, and this one dodged about as much as ever the ghostly light did. If you caught sight of him in the three-cornered plantation, he vanished forthwith to appear next in the Ravine; if he stood peering out from the trees on the bank, and found himself observed, the next minute he'd be crouching amongst the broom on the other side. This came to be observed, and was thought strange, naturally; Hannah, who was often out with Hugh and Lena, often saw him, and talked to the other servants. One evening, when we were finishing dinner, the glass doors of the bow-window being open, Hannah came back with the children. They ran across the grass-plat after the fawn--one we had, just then--and Hannah sat down in the porch of the side-door to wait. Old Thomas had just drawn the slips from the table, and went through the passage to the side-door to shake them. "I say," cried Hannah's voice, "I saw that man again." "Where?" asked Thomas, between his shakes of the linen.