"_Me_ get paid!" returned the youth, with intense aggravation; "no such luck. Unless," added he, a happy thought striking him, "anybody likes to give me something for myself--knowing how weighty they be, and what a lug it is for one's arms." "This parcel is not at all heavy," said Lady Level. "I'm sure he is, then, for his size. You should lift, though, what I have to drag along sometimes. Why, yesterday that ever was, I brought a parcel as big as a house to the next door; one that come from Lunnon by the mid-day train just as this'n did; and Mother Snow she never gave me nothing but a jam tart, no bigger nor the round o' your hand. She were taking a tray on 'em out o' the oven." "Jam tarts for _her_ delectation!" was the thought that flashed through Lady Level's mind. "Who was the parcel for, Sam?" she asked aloud. "'Twere directed to Mrs. Snow." "Oh. Not to that lady who is staying there?" "What lady be that?" questioned Sam. "The one you told me about. The lady with the long gold earrings." Sam's stolid countenance assumed a look of doubt, as if he did not altogether understand. His eyes grew wider. "_That_ un! Her bain't there now, her bain't. Her didn't stop. Her went right away again the next day after she come." "_Did_ she?" exclaimed Lady Level, taken by surprise. "Are you sure?" "Be I sure as that's a newspaper in your hand?" retorted Sam. "In course I be sure. The fly were ordered down here for her the next morning, and she come on to the station in it, Mr. Snow a sitting outside." "She went back to London, then!" "She went just t'other way," contradicted the boy. "Right on by the down-train. Dover her ticket were took for." Lady Level fell into a passing reverie. All the conjectures she had been indulging in lately--whither had they flown? At that moment Mrs. Edwards, having seen the boy from the house, came out to ask what he wanted. Sam put on his best behaviour instantly. The respect he failed to show to the young lady was in full force before Mrs. Edwards. "I come to bring this here parcel, please, ma'am, for Lady Level," said he, touching his old cap. "Oh, very well," said Mrs. Edwards. "I'll carry it indoors, my lady," she added, taking it up. "You need not wait, Sam." Lady Level slipped a sixpence into his ready hand, and he went off contented. Mrs. Edwards carried away the parcel. Presently Lady Level followed, her mind busy as she went upstairs. She was taking some contrition to herself. What if--if it was all, or a great deal of it, only her imagination--that her husband was not the disloyal man she had deemed him? His chamber door was closed; she passed it and went into her own. Then she opened the door separating the rooms and peeped in. He was lying upon the bed, partly dressed, and wrapped in a warm dressing-gown; his face was turned to the pillow, and he was apparently asleep.