"Yes, doctor," he said, after looking round him for a few moments, as if in search of the object he named, "he'd have been like so much varmin to me, and if he hadn't married my poor lass, I should have shot him as I would a stoat." Time ran on after its fashion, but few changes took place at Brackley. Sir John Day used to thank Oldroyd for introducing to him the best keeper who ever stepped, for Hayle was the higher in favour from his being a man who was a capital judge of stock, and one who could keep a good eye upon the farm when the squire went away year by year for a long stay abroad. When at home, Glynne was her uncle's constant companion in his botanical walks, and these generally ended in her being left at the cottage where Mrs Alleyne, widowed of son as well as husband, took up her residence in full view of the gloomy old Firs, lately taken by a famous astronomer, who vastly altered the former occupant's position by his eagerness to acquire Moray Alleyne's costly instruments which had been carefully cared for by his mother's hands. At The Warren, Mrs Rolph, grown careworn and grey, resided still with her niece for companion, her son never having been there since Marjorie was left to her despair. The servants were not above talking, and rumours reached Brackley Hall that Mrs Rolph had cursed her son, and was never going to see him again, that it was a place no servant could stop in, for the old lady's temper was awful, and Miss Marjorie as mad as a March hare; while even Oldroyd hinted to his wife, after being called in, that Miss Emlin was rather flighty and strange. "They never go out anywhere," he said; "and from what I saw, I should say they are always either quarrelling or making it up. Seem fond of one another though, all the same." "But what do you mean by flighty and strange?" said Lucy. "You don't mean ready to flirt with men?" Oldroyd burst into a hearty laugh, and caught up his youngest child. "Don't be alarmed," he cried. "Never will I be false to thee. How does the song go? She's got the complaint that ladies have who have been crossed in love as folks call it. Seriously, dear, I should not be surprised if she did turn a little crazy." "Oh, Phil; how horrible!" "Yes; my dear," he said seriously, but with a humorous twinkle in his eye; "I understand these things. I knew a young doctor once who very nearly became a candidate for a private asylum." "Phil!--Yes; what is it?" "Messenger, ma'am, from Brackley. Would master be kind enough to step over." "Oh, Phil, dear; Glynne is ill," cried Lucy, piteously. "I had a presentiment last night. Here, I'll take the children over to mamma, and come with you." "Wait a moment," cried Oldroyd, and he ran out to speak to Sir John's groom and came back. "All right," he said. "No one ill? Something about Hayle the keeper the man says. Wanted directly."