“Very true,” answered Miss Aynton carelessly; “that is what I always told them. Besides, it is not pleasant to run the chance of meeting a rude and perhaps half-drunken ruffian like this man Derrick, when one knows he has made up his mind to address one upon the first opportunity.” “Indeed!” said my Lady scornfully, “I assure you I was quite unaware of that dreadful menace.” She stole a glance over her cup, to see if there was anything to read in this strange girl's face; but there was nothing. As soon as she had finished her duties in connection with the coffeepot, she had taken a piece of fancy-work in her hands, in the execution of which she seemed entirely wrapped up. “O yes; of course it is most ridiculous, but that is what all the village has been saying for these five months, more or less; and now that you are going out for the first time, when he has but left the place overnight, they are sure to say”---- “How do you know, Rose, that this man left Mirk last night?” inquired my Lady, setting down her cup, and looking at the young girl fixedly. Could it possibly have been _she_ whom she had beheld lurking about the churchyard wall, and perhaps listening to the conversation, in the course of which Derrick had announced his intention of going at that late hour to Dalwynch, so as to be in time for the first up-train upon the morrow? A faint flush stole over Miss Aynton's face, but by no means such a blush as is called “tell-tale:” it might easily enough have been caused by the mère directness of the question. “Your son, Mr Walter, told me,” replied she simply--“he is a great ally of this man's, you know.--Here is the carriage. I am afraid you will find it very dull, Lady Lisgard, taking this long drive all alone. If I thought that my company”---- “Thank you, Rose,” replied my Lady hastily; “it is most kind of you to offer it; but the fact is, I am going to take Forest with me. This visit to Dalwynch is mainly upon her account indeed. If the chariot held more than two, perhaps I should take you at your word; but as it is----See, I have a book for my companion.--Come, Forest; we have no time to lose.” Mary had entered the room while she was speaking, and gave quite a start at seeing Miss Aynton at the breakfast-table. Her mistress was already cloaked, and had her bonnet on. “To Dalwynch, my Lady?” said the footman, having put up the steps and closed the chariot-door. “Yes; drive fast.” “Which part of the town, my Lady?” for there were two roads to the post-town, the relative length of which from the Abbey depended upon what part of the place was to be visited. Miss Aynton was standing on the last flight of the stone steps, and could hear every word that was spoken. “Take the lower road,” replied my Lady very distinctly; and the well-hung chariot--pleasantest invention save the fair-weather Hansom, which the wit of coachmakers has yet sought out--rolled swiftly along the gravelled road.