"Hi, hi, hi!" he chuckled; "never mind about Squire Luke; but I should like him by-and-by--by-and-by, of course--to have a bottle on it mixed ready to give me, and bring me back. Phew! that's a nasty subject to think about." He smoked rather hurriedly for some time, and there was a curious, haggard expression in his face; but it died out under the influence of his tobacco, and, after a time, he gave a low chuckle and shook all over. "`Old Buck!' that's what he said. `Old Buck,' and give me a slap i' the chest, as nearly knocked all the wind out o' me. Not a bit like him to do. Not professional. As soon have expected Parson Salis to call me Old Cock. Ah, well! doctor's only a man after all, and no book-larning won't make him anything else; but I don't like a doctor as takes to his drops. "'Tarn't brandy, or gin, or rum, or whisky, or I should have smelt him, and he spoke straight enough d'rectly after. He takes some stuff as he mixes up, and it makes him ready to burst out rollicking like at times; but he recollects hisself quickly ag'in, and seems sorry. "Ay, but he looks bad, that he do. Looks like a man who can't sleep-- white and wanly. Well, as long as he tends me right, it don't matter. He paid up handsome for all I did for him. Hi! hi! hi! It was a rum game. How's young squire now, I wonder, and how's matters going on there? Ha! now that's curus. So sure as I begins thinking about my Dally, she comes. Hallo, my little princess, how do?" "Oh, I am quite well, gran'fa," said Dally, entering the cottage, looking rather flushed and heated. "I'm in a great hurry, but I thought I'd just run down and see how you were." "He come with you?" said the old man, pointing over the little maid's shoulder. She looked sharply round, caught sight of Joe Chegg, and ran back and slammed the door. "An idiot!" she cried sharply. "He's always following me about." "Going to let him marry you, Dally?" "I should think not, indeed! What nonsense, gran'fa." "Well, what have you come for, eh? How's squire?" "Getting nearly well again." "Is he? How do you know? Were you going up to Hall night afore last?" "N--" "Yes, you were, Dally," said the old man, with a chuckle. "You needn't tell a lie. I know. I often see you when you don't know. You was going up to Hall." "Well, then, I was," said Dally defiantly, "and I don't care who knows." "'Cept Miss Leo, eh?" The old man chuckled hugely, and rubbed his hands. "I don't mind Miss Leo knowing. She does know," cried Dally. "Perhaps she sent me." "Did she, though--did she, though? Ay, but she'll win him after all, Dally. She's better and handsomer than you are, and she's a leddy, Dally. You've got no chance against she." "Haven't I, gran'fa? You'll see. But not if I'm obliged to go up to the Hall looking shabby and mean. You said I should have a silk gown and a feather."