The good-natured steward, on her right hand, noticed Jenny's look at the new comer. "That is Mrs Jane's new man," said he kindly; "he goeth with you into Somerset. My Lord Wilmot hath spoken for him to the Colonel, and commends him highly, for a young man of exceeding good character." Young men of good character were not attractive people to Jenny; a young man with good looks would have had much more chance of her regard. "His name is William Jackson," added the steward. Jenny was rather sorry to hear that this uninteresting youth would have to go with them to Bristol; the rather, because it destroyed the last vestige of a faint hope she had entertained, that Robin Featherstone might be chosen for that purpose. The worst of all her grievances was, that she seemed completely cut off from his delightful society. She had really seen far more of him at the farm than she did now, when she was living in the same house. And then to have all her rose-coloured visions for the future destroyed--Jenny felt herself a badly used young woman. Supper ended, the dance followed according to Mrs Jane's decree, led off by herself and Lord Wilmot; and Jenny, to her great satisfaction, found herself the partner of the enchanting Robin. "Mrs Jenny, I have not had so much as a word with you since yestereven!" said that gentleman reproachfully. "No, in very deed," assented Jenny; "and I hear you go not into Somerset, Mr Featherstone." "No such luck!" lamented the valet. "I'm to be mewed up here. That black crow yonder will rob me of all your sweet smiles, my charmer." "Indeed he won't!" said Jenny. "I don't like the look of him, I can tell you." At that moment the new servant, and his partner, the dairy-maid, whisked round close beside them, and Jenny saw, from the amused twinkle in his dark eyes, that Jackson had overheard her disparaging remark. "He looks as if he hadn't washed himself this week," observed Mr Featherstone, whose complexion was fair. "He's an ill-looking fellow," replied Jenny. "Do you hear what they say of you?" asked Fortune, the dairy-maid, of her partner. "I hear 'em," was Will Jackson's reply. "Won't you knock him down?" "I think not. Wouldn't be convenient to the Colonel." "I doubt you're chicken-hearted," replied she. "Think so?" said Will Jackson, quite calmly. "Well, you're a queer fellow!" said Fortune. "Hold you there!" was the reply; "I shall be queerer anon." The Monday was a very busy day, for Mrs Jane proposed to set forth with the lark on the Tuesday morning. She had obtained a pass from the Parliament for herself and friends, and four others were to accompany her; her cousin Mr Lascelles, and his wife, and a neighbouring lady and gentleman named Petre. Jenny was very busy all day packing trunks and bags under the instructions of her young mistress. In the afternoon, as they were thus employed, Mrs Lane came rather hastily into the room.