"Rothwell from the crown of his head to the sole of his foot. The old people, who knew the family, will find him out as he walks through the village--see if they don't. The same haughty, sulky, sneering way with him, and just the same voice. Only every Rothwell at the Place, even to the last, had an air of being a _grand seigneur_, which this fellow can't very well have. Upon my word, I begin to think it was the pleasantest thing about them. I don't like a pride which is conscious of being homeless and out at elbows." Barbara undauntedly pursued her little romance. "You are talking about the men," she said. "Is Mr. Harding like his mother?" "Well, she was a handsome woman," Mr. Hayes replied indifferently, "but she had the same unpleasant manner." The girl was thrown back on an utter blankness of ideas. A woman beloved may have a dozen faults, and be the dearer for them; but she cannot possibly have an unpleasant manner. Barbara could frame no theory to fit the perplexing facts. As they turned into the one street of Mitchelhurst, Mr. Hayes spoke musingly. "To-morrow afternoon, Barbara, let that young man have the blue room--the large room. You know which I mean?" "Yes, uncle." "See that everything is nice and in order. And, Barbara----" "Yes, uncle," said Barbara again, for he paused. "Mr. Reynold Harding will probably look down on you. I suspect he thinks that you and I are about fit to black his boots. Be civil, of course, but you needn't do it." "I'm sure I don't want," said the girl quietly; "and at that rate I should hope he would come with them tolerably clean to-morrow." Mr. Hayes laughed suddenly, showing his teeth. "By Jove!" he said, "they were dirty enough this afternoon!" "In my service," said Barbara. "Now I come to think of it, it seems to me that I ought to clean them." "Nonsense!" her uncle exclaimed, still smiling at the remembrance. "And you saw him roll into the ditch?--Barbara, the poor fellow must hate you like poison!" She looked down as she walked, drawing her delicate brows a little together. "I dare say he does," she said softly, as if to herself. * * * * *