“In the village,” said she. Nobody slept at the stables now that Mr. Rayner was away, except the old gardener, who would certainly never reach Beaconsburgh before daybreak if I sent him out at nine o’clock at night. Jane was too young to be sent all that way alone at night, the cook too old. There was only one thing to be done; I must go myself. “Go and ask cook, if she is not asleep, to lend me her big round water-proof cloak, Jane,” said I, “and bring me one of Miss Haidee’s Shetland veils.” She ran away, astonished, to fetch them; and then, seeing that I was in earnest, she helped quickly and well to make me as like a middle-aged countrywoman as possible by buttoning my cloak, fastening a garden-hat round my head like a poke-bonnet, and attaching my veil to it. Then she tied up my umbrella like a market-woman’s, and let me out, giggling a little at my appearance, but promising faithfully not to leave Haidee till my return, and to “stand up to Sally” if she interfered. I felt rather frightened at the boldness of my undertaking as I heard the hall door close upon me, and realized that I had nothing in the world but my umbrella and my wits to protect me all the long three miles and a half of road to Beaconsburgh. The moon was at the second quarter, but did not give much light, for it was a cloudy night, raining now and then. I was not sorry for this, as I was the less likely to be recognized, and it was not the sort of weather to encourage late loiterers. I passed two or three villagers, only one of whom walked unsteadily; but none of them took any notice of me; and I had got past the last of the Geldham cottages, and on to a piece of straight road up a hill, where there were no houses in sight, when I heard the sounds of a vehicle coming along at a good pace behind me. It slackened to come up the hill, and I, to keep up my character, bent over my umbrella, and walked more slowly. But this subterfuge had an undesired effect. “Hallo, my good woman! Would you like a lift up the hill?” cried the driver; and my heart leapt up, for it was Laurence’s voice. In a moment I felt like a different woman; my blood seemed dancing for joy, my pulses beat more quickly, and the spirit of mischief came into me so that I wanted to laugh aloud. “Ay, ay!” I grunted out slowly; and, waiting until the cart came up to me, I climbed with his help and with seeming difficulty, carefully keeping my cloak over my hands, on to the seat by his side. “All right?” said he; and again I grunted “Ay, ay!” and on we went.