The door was half open, and as soon as his steps approached, an old woman's sharp voice exclaimed,-- "Ah, you've come back then, you hussy! Who was that came and called you out, eh?" "You are making a mistake," said the major quietly. "I came to ask if I could have a glass of water?" "Oh yes, come in, whoever you are, if you ar'n't afraid to see an ugly old woman lying in bed. I thought it was my grandchild. Who are you?" "I come from Brackley," said the major, smiling down at the crotchety old thing in the bed. "Do you? oh, then I know you. Your one of old Sir John Day's boys. Be you the one who went sojering?" "Yes, I'm the one," said the major, smiling. "Ah, you've growed since then. My master pointed you out to me one day on your pony. Yes, to be sure, you was curly-headed then. There, you can take some water; it's in the brown pitcher, and yonder's a mug. It was fresh from the well two hours ago. That gal had just fetched it when some one throwed a stone at the door, and she went out to see who threw it, she said. Ah, she don't cheat me, a hussy. She knowed, and I mean to know. It was some chap, that's who it was, some chap--Caleb Kent maybe--and I'm not going to have her come pretending to do for me, and be running after gipsy chaps." "No, you must take care of the young folks," said the major. "What beautiful water!" "Yes, my master dug that well himself, down to the stone, and it's beautiful water. Have another mug? That's right. You needn't give me anything for it without you like; but a shilling comes in very useful to get a bit o' tea. I often wish we could grow tea in one's own garden." "It would be handy," said the major. "There's half-a-crown for you, old lady. It's a shame that you should not have your bit of tea. Good-bye." "Good-bye to you, and thank you kindly," cried the old woman; "and if you see that slut of a girl just you send her on to me." "I will," he said. "Good-bye." "Good-bye," shrieked the old woman; and as the major passed out of the gate, the shrill voice came after him, "Mind you send her on if you see her." The words reached a second pair of ears, those of Judith, who flushed up hot and angry as she found herself once more in the presence of the major. "You've been telling her about me," she cried fiercely. "It's cowardly; it's cruel." She stood up before him so flushed and handsome that the major felt as it were the whole of her little story. "No," he said quietly, "I have not told your grandmother about you; she has been telling me." With an angry, indignant look the girl swept by him and entered the cottage.