"I should not have thought there was much danger in it myself," interrupted Miss Winter, kindly. "Do not distress yourself. They must have talked of it again, you see; and so it must have got about, and come to the knowledge of improper people." "Oh dear!" wailed Mrs. Toynbee. "Yes, that is how it must have been. I wish I had known nothing about the jewels!" Leaving her to her repentant sorrow, Ella went to see after poor Mrs. Stone. Dorothy--she knew the worst now--was in her own sitting-room, leaning back in an easy-chair before a good fire, attired in her Sunday gown and cap--a soft black twill, trimmed handsomely with crape; a cap of white net and black gauze ribbon--for they were yet in deep mourning for the Squire. Perhaps some vague idea of its being a sort of holiday for the old woman would do no work that day--had induced her to put these best things on. At Dorothy's age the outward signs of great emotions last but for a little while. Tears may come, but they do not flow so plentifully as in youth: the springs are deeper down, and more difficult to reach, and when found are sometimes almost dry. As age creeps on, and one or other of our loved ones drops silently from our side, it seems but such a little time till we hope to see them again, the period of separation is so short, as they are we ourselves shall so soon be, that we cannot mourn their loss with that intensity which we should have felt in youth, when the plains before us stretched to a limitless horizon, and our heartstrings were responsive to the slightest touch. The young mistress sat down beside Dorothy, and took one of the old woman's withered hands between her own. That soft, warm, caressing touch unsealed again the fountains of the aged heart. With her other hand she lifted a corner of her apron to her eyes. For a minute or two neither of them spoke. "What a handsome, brave lad he was, Miss Ella!" cried Dorothy at length. "Fit to be a lord's son, any day; and with as bold and masterful a spirit as any gentleman need wish to have: and now to think of him lying there, white and cold and dumb--he that had a laugh and a ready word for everybody. Alack! alack! if I could but be lying there instead of him!" "My poor Dorothy! I do indeed feel for you." "I knew when I saw the headless horses and the black coach that night in the park that there would be a death among us before long," she continued; "but I little thought my own bright boy would be the one to go. Ah! we never know; we never know. Though he was ill that night with his throat; and that might have whispered to me that the apparition was for him." "Dorothy, do not dwell upon such things." "Miss Ella, trust an old woman who has had a vast experience of life. Such signs and tokens are not sent for nothing, though some folks may laugh at you for heeding them. They are warnings from another world," added the old woman solemnly, "and some day it may be made plain to us why they are sent."