It was nice of Dolly, it was never forgotten about her for ever. It never will be till the children's children are greyheaded. By the carriage door stood the pair, hats in hand, tears running down their cheeks, speaking across Mrs. Werner to their master; their master whom they had loved and robbed, cheated and served honestly, believed in and grumbled concerning through years too long to count. And away in the background were a group of men, the faces of whom appalled Mr. Meadows, men who would have pumped on him had Mrs. Mortomley given the signal, who loved their master, though it might be they had not acted always honestly or straightforwardly by him, and who would at that moment have done any wickedness in his service, had he only pleased to show them the way. With a mighty effort Dolly choked back her tears. She heard the men say, "And we wish you back, sir, better." To which Mortomley replied, "I hope I shall be better, but you will see me here no more." "No more." Lang opened the door of the carriage for Dolly, who shook hands with him and his colleague ere the vehicle drove off. "No more." Mortomley had said in those two words farewell to Homewood. No more for ever did a Mortomley pace the familiar walks, or cross the remembered rooms. No more--no more--with the wail of that dirge in their ears the men went back to their labour exceedingly sad in spirit. Mr. Meadows, however, was not sad. He sought out Esther crying in a convenient corner. "Well, I am glad they are gone," he exclaimed, "and shall I tell you why?" "You can if you like," Esther agreed, wiping her eyes with her muslin apron, which she had donned in honour of Mrs. Werner, "though for my part I do not care whether you are glad or sorry." "Well, when I came here I was told to _watch your mistress_, and it has not been a pleasant occupation. I told Swanland it was all gammon thinking she was not on the square. Of course we know all about that, but he said his information from some one--Forde, I suppose, was clear, and that money was put away, and I must find out where. As if," added Mr. Meadows, with a gesture of ineffable contempt, "people like your people did not fight to the last shot, did not eat the last biscuit before surrendering. Of course I understand the whole thing, and I have but to repeat, so far as I am concerned, I am----glad they are gone." "Let me pass, please," said Esther with a shudder. "I do not want to hear anything more about you or your master, or Mr. Forde--or--anybody," and her tone was so decided, he stepped aside and allowed her to pass without uttering another word. CHAPTER XIII. DOLLY WRITES A LETTER.