The agent tapped his leggings with a riding-cane. “So you've been expecting it!” he said with relief. “That's right.” And, staring down at the mother-child, he added: “Well, what d'you say, my dear; you look full of sense, you do!” Biddy answered: “I'll go and tell Mr. Freeland, sir.” “Ah! You're a bright maid. He'll know where to put you for the time bein'. Have you had your dinner?” “No, sir; it's just ready.” “Better have it—better have it first. No hurry. What've you got in the pot that smells so good?” “Bubble and squeak, sir.” “Bubble and squeak! Ah!” And with those words the agent withdrew to where, in a farm wagon drawn up by the side of the road, three men were solemnly pulling at their pipes. He moved away from them a little, for, as he expressed it to his wife afterward: “Look bad, you know, look bad—anybody seeing me! Those three little children—that's where it is! If our friends at the Hall had to do these jobs for themselves, there wouldn't be any to do!” Presently, from his discreet distance, he saw the mother-child going down the road toward Tod's, in her blue 'pinny' and corn-colored hair. Nice little thing! Pretty little thing, too! Pity, great pity! And he went back to the cottage. On his way a thought struck him so that he well-nigh shivered. Suppose the little thing brought back that Mrs. Freeland, the lady who always went about in blue, without a hat! Phew! Mr. Freeland—he was another sort; a bit off, certainly—harmless, quite harmless! But that lady! And he entered the cottage. The woman was washing up; seemed a sensible body. When the two kids cleared off to school he could go to work and get it over; the sooner the better, before people came hanging round. A job of this kind sometimes made nasty blood! His yellowish eyes took in the nature of the task before him. Funny jam-up they did get about them, to be sure! Every blessed little thing they'd ever bought, and more, too! Have to take precious good care nothing got smashed, or the law would be on the other leg! And he said to the woman: “Now, miss, can I begin?” “I can't stop you, sir.” 'No,' he thought, 'you can't stop me, and I blamed well wish you could!' But he said: “Got an old wagon out here. Thought I'd save him damage by weather or anything; we'll put everything in that, and run it up into the empty barn at Marrow and leave it. And there they'll be for him when he wants 'em.” The woman answered: “You're very kind, I'm sure.” Perceiving that she meant no irony, the agent produced a sound from somewhere deep and went out to summon his men.