The walls were separated by a pair of handsome iron gates, and a small doorway stood beside them. A short, straight avenue, overhung by trees, led to the front entrance of the house. The surly boy, turning himself and his bag round, pushed backwards against the small door, sent it flying, and branched off into a side-path. "Is not that the front-door?" said the lady, trying to arrest him. "'Tain't no manner of use going to it," replied the imperturbable boy, marching on. "The old gentleman and lady gets out o' the way, and the maids in the kitchen be deaf, I think. Last time I came up here with a parcel, I rung at it till I was tired, and nobody heard." He went up to a side-door, flung it open, and put down the bag. A neat-looking young woman, with her sleeves turned up, came forward, and stared in silence. "Is Lord Level within?" inquired the lady. "My lord's ill in bed," replied the servant; "he cannot be seen or spoken to. What do you want with him, please?" She seemed a good-tempered, ignorant sort of girl, but nothing more. At that moment someone called to her from an inner room, and she turned away. "Are there not any upper servants in the house, do you know?" inquired the lady of the boy. "I doesn't think so. There's the missis." A tinge came over the lady's face. "The mistress! Who is she?" "She's Mrs. Ed'ards. An old lady, what comes to church with buckles in her shoes. And there's Mr.----" "What is it that you want here?" interrupted the servant girl, advancing again, and addressing the visitor in a not very conciliatory tone. "I am Lady Level," was the reply, in a ringing, imperious voice. "Call someone to receive me." It found its way to the girl's alarm. She looked scared, doubting, and finally turned and flew off down a long, dark passage. The boy heard the announcement without its ruffling his equanimity in the least degree. "That's all, ain't it?" asked he, giving the bag a condescending touch with his foot. "How much am I to pay you?" inquired Lady Level. The boy paused. "You bain't obliged to pay nothing." "What is the charge?" repeated Lady Level. "The charge ain't nothing. If folks like to give anything, it's gived as a gift." She smiled, and, taking out her purse, gave him half-a-crown. He received it with remarkable satisfaction, and then, with an air of great mystery and cunning, slipped it into his boot. "But, I say, don't you go and tell, over there, as you gived it me," said he, jerking his head in the direction of the railway station. "We are not let take nothing, and there'd be the whole lot of 'em about my ears. You won't tell?" "No, I will not tell," replied Lady Level, laughing, in spite of her cares and annoyances. And the promising young porter in embryo, giving vent to a shrill whistle, which might have been heard at the two-mile-off station, tore away as fast as his legs would carry him.