On these occasions the surrounding tenants were allowed to come up to the hall and Walter Margrove, when Mistress Mowbray had departed, started to put his things together to take them into the courtyard. The children stayed behind to watch him for a few moments and as he was leaving the Hall he pressed a small packet into Aline’s hand and said in a whisper, “Do not say anything; it is a pleasure, just a small remembrance.” The packet contained the small silver necklace that he had been showing before. It was not of great intrinsic value, but was of singularly chaste design and though exceedingly simple was of much beauty. Aline was immensely surprised at the unexpected joy, and for the time it quite made up to her for her previous disappointment. As the packman went into the courtyard a great crowd gathered round him, both chaffering and gossiping. “Who is the beautiful young mistress that has come to Holwick?” he asked. “Oh, she is a distant cousin of Master Mowbray,” said one, “but you have no idea of the things that have been going on since you were last at Holwick.” “What things?” “Why, the child has been nearly killed,” said old Elspeth who had followed the packman out. “Poor wee soul, it makes my old heart bleed to think of it even now.” Elspeth then recounted the tale of all that had taken place. “Then why is Mistress Holwick not more grateful? She seems to have saved her and her good man a pretty penny indeed.” “The woman is crazed with jealousy or envy or what not,” said another. “But the child seems a lovable one to my thinking,” said Margrove. “There has never been a better lassie in Holwick is my way of looking at it.” It was Janet Arnside who was speaking; she had come up to see Elspeth, and take the opportunity of buying a few trifles at the same time. “My boy just owes his life to her; she has been down to us times without number, and I have never seen anything like the way that she gets hold of one’s heart. I cried the whole day long when I heard of her being hurt like that, and it just makes me rage to hear the things that they tell of Mistress Holwick and the child. It would have been the worst thing that ever happened to Holwick if anything really serious had befallen her that night.” “Ay, ay,” said several voices in chorus. “And why should not the bairn have fine linen, I should like to know?” she went on. “It is a downright shame,” said a man’s voice. “Well, neighbour,” said Janet, “I am not the one to interfere in other folk’s business, but I am not the only one that the child has blessed, not the only one by a long way.” “No, that you are not, mistress,”--“No, indeed, think of my wife’s sickness,”--“Think of my little lass,”--“Ay, and mine,”--“And my old father,”--said one voice after another. “Can we not do something, neighbours?” said Janet. “Why not speak to Master Richard himself?”