Markham thanked the domestic for her answer to his inquiries, and proceeded to the Abbey. When he came near to that fine building, his attention was drawn to symptoms of neglect which he had not observed at a distance. He did not find any difficulty in gaining admittance here: for the trusty Oliver, who had nothing else to do, was constantly on the look-out for strangers who might be attracted by curiosity to visit this splendid mansion during the absence of its occupier. It was a very good source of profit to Oliver; and whenever he saw any one approaching the house, he always stepped officiously forward to introduce the visitor. He presently recognised Markham, and greeted far more courteously than the crabbed old lady at the cottage had done; and when Markham made inquiries concerning the family, then was the tongue of the trusty Oliver set in rapid motion, and his powers of utterance were indeed prodigious. His memory also was remarkably tenacious; for it seemed astonishing to Markham that he should recollect so many various and minute circumstances. He entered into a very particular, full, free and copious narrative of all that had taken place in and out of Brigland, so far as concerned the family of the Martindales. There might be, it is possible, some little invention; for with such gentlemen as Oliver the imagination is somewhat prompt to supply the defects of memory. Among other matters of information which Oliver gave to Markham, he said, "And fine doings there have been, sir, about Miss Clara; for the poor young lady has been dying for love of a Mr. Skippetson, a very fine young gentleman indeed, such a dandy, sir, as you never heard of. It is said he spends enough in perfumery to keep half a dozen poor families; and when he was down at the sea-side and would have a warm bath, he insisted upon having six bottles of Eau de Cologne put into the water to make it sweet. Well, sir, as I was saying, this gentleman is paying his addresses to Miss Clara; and Miss Clara's mamma declares it shall not be a match, for she does not like the young man; and Mr. Martindale declares it shall; and says that if Clara does not marry Mr. Skippetson, she shall not have a farthing of his money; and Miss Clara has been so ill, that she has been quite at death's-door: indeed, sir, the last accounts I received from the servants that are with them say, that it is very likely that the poor young lady will die of a broken heart. But they say that Madam Rivolta is so proud, she thinks nothing under a lord good enough for her daughter; and the father of the young lady does not seem to care any thing about the matter, he only smokes cigars and lounges about. It is a great pity that Mr. Martindale ever happened of that family, they have done him more harm than good; they have so unsettled him that he hardly knows what he is about, or where he is going to next: he has taken a fine house in town, and is going