This need not have been mentioned, but for a little matter that occurred during their absence. The servant girl, Betsy Tucker, was taken ill. Her symptoms were those of fever, and old Aaron protested that she should be got out of the house. "A pretty thing if the Hall is to be filled with typhus and what not!" he growled--for Hubert's death did not seem to have sweetened his temper. "A nice sort of wind-up that would be!" "Let her come to me," cried Mrs. Keen, briskly, in whose hearing this was said; the landlady having gone to the Hall to see the girl. "I am not afraid it's going to be any thing infectious; I don't think it is. I knew her mother, you may remember, Mr. Stone." Aaron closed with the offer at once. And the first news that greeted the mistress of Heron Dyke, returning from her week's visit to the pleasant city of Norwich, was that Betsy Tucker was ill of fever; and that she had been sent out of the house by Aaron, to get well, or die, at the "Leaning Gate." Miss Winter showed herself to be very angry at the removal. But the thing was done. CHAPTER II. WHAT PRISCILLA PEYTON HAD TO TELL. In a cheerful room at Heron Dyke, with the morning sun shining upon it, there sat two young women, busily plying their needles: Miss Winter's maid, Adele, and a dressmaker, one Priscilla Peyton. Priscilla was a homely, pleasant-featured person, between thirty and forty, who had often been employed at the Hall. They were making a morning gown for the Hall's mistress. "What am I to do?" suddenly cried Priscilla. "It is impossible to get on without cord. I thought you would be sure to have some up here, or I'd have brought it with me." "We generally do have it--plenty of it, but it was all used up last week, Miss Peyton," replied Adele; a steady, dark young woman, who spoke English and French equally well. Miss Winter came into the room at this juncture, and the difficulty was revealed to her. She said Adele had better go to the nearest shop, one at this end of Nullington, and buy some cord. But to this order the dressmaker looked as if she would like to demur. "What is it, Priscilla?" asked Miss Winter. "Can you not spare her?" "Well, ma'am, the truth is, I shall be waiting for that frilling she is hemming." "Oh, I will finish that for you, Priscilla," readily replied the young lady, who had a natural aptitude and liking for work. She took a seat by the window; and Adele departed in search of what was required. Hemming quickly at the strip of cambric, Ella talked the while to Priscilla Peyton, whom she had known--and esteemed--for years. "It is some time since you were at work here, is it not, Priscilla?" she remarked. "Well, it is, ma'am. With so many more maids in the house, Mrs. Stone gets done for her what I used to come to do. The last time I was here at work was when you were abroad, Miss Ella, and the poor Squire was lying ill." "Did you see him?"