He adjourned to the village inn, and ordered a bottle of wine, simply for the sake of getting into conversation with the landlord, who seemed much gratified when he was told to bring a second glass and help himself. The sherry was potent, and loosened mine host’s tongue. What sort of a neighborhood was it? Why, as poor as poor could be. He never got any genteel custom from week’s end to week’s end, and that was very trying to a man who had lived in good families before he took up with the public line, and liked to keep in his own set. “I suppose you don’t supply the Grange, then?” said Colonel Dacre, looking as innocent as a dove. “Bless you, sir, there’s no supplying as far as the Grange goes. The lady it belongs to doesn’t come to Turoy more than once a year, and then she is a teetotaller.” “That is very unfortunate,” returned Colonel Dacre sympathetically. “I suppose she isn’t here now?” “That I can’t tell you, sir. Her coming or going doesn’t make much difference to me, although some people are delighted enough.” “Perhaps she is good to the poor?” “Well, I believe she is that,” he admitted. “But I am afraid you don’t like the wine, sir. You see, having so little trade in that way, I can’t afford to keep much of a stock.” “Oh, no; you are quite right,” answered the colonel. “Have you a decent bed for me, supposing I decide to remain at Turoy to-night?” “The best in the world, sir; I’ll answer for that,” responded mine host. “And I shall be proud of your patronage and recommendation.” Colonel Dacre strolled out into the village to pass away the time, and it was growing dusk when he presented himself once more at Lady Gwendolyn’s door. This time it was answered by a stalwart, weather-beaten man of about fifty, who, in reply to his question, said, civilly, that her ladyship was not at home. “Could I see her if I called in the morning?” pursued the colonel. “I doubt if she’ll be at home then; but, of course, you must do as you like about the calling.” “The fact is, I want to see Lady Gwendolyn upon particular business,” added Colonel Dacre impressively. “I am sure she would not refuse to receive me if she knew this, and I should be really obliged if you would mention it to her. Or would it be better if I wrote a line, and explained matters myself?” “I should almost think it would, sir.” “Yes, but is she sure to get my letter?” “I don’t fancy anybody would steal it, sir,” replied the man shortly. “I didn’t mean that, of course; but if she is not here it could be forwarded, I suppose?” “There would be no difficulty about that.” Colonel Dacre tried to slip a sovereign into his hand, but the man was evidently obtuse, for he let it drop, and seemed quite surprised when he heard it ring on the stone floor.