From this strong position Tom could not dislodge her, and finding that expostulation involved him in a risk of a similar classification, he abandoned Cleve to his fate. Up and down the Green they walked until Miss Flood espied and arrested Charity Etherage, and carried her off upon a visit of philanthropy in her pony-carriage, and Tom Sedley transferred his charge to fussy, imperious Miss Flood; and he felt strangely incensed with her, and walked the Green, disappointed and bereft. Was not Charity Agnes's sister? While he walked with her, he could talk of Agnes. He was still in the halo of Hazelden, and near Agnes. But now he was adrift, in the dark. He sat down, looking toward the upland woods that indicate Hazelden, and sighed with a much more real pain than he had ever sighed toward Malory; and he thought evil of meddling Miss Flood, who had carried away his companion. After a time he walked away toward Malory, intending a visit to his old friend Rebecca Mervyn, and thinking all the way of Agnes Etherage. CHAPTER V. MRS. MERVYN'S DREAM. HE found himself, in a little time, under the windows of the steward's house. Old Rebecca Mervyn was seated on the bench beside the door, plying her knitting-needles; she raised her eyes on hearing his step. "Ha, he's come!" she said, lowering her hands to her knees, and fixing her dark wild gaze upon him, "I ought to have known it--so strange a dream must have had a meaning." "They sometimes have, ma'am, I believe. I hope you are pretty well, Mrs. Mervyn." "No, sir, I am not well." "Very sorry, very sorry indeed, ma'am," said Tom Sedley. "I've often thought this must be a very damp, unhealthy place--too much crowded up with trees; they say nothing is more trying to health. You'd be much better, I'm sure, anywhere else." "Nowhere else; my next move shall be my last. I care not how soon, sir." "Pray, don't give way to low spirits; you really mustn't," said Tom. "Tell me what it is, sir; for I know you have come to tell me something." "No, I assure you; merely to ask you how you are, and whether I can be of any use." "Oh! sir; what use?--_no_." "Do you wish me to give any message to that fellow, Dingwell? Pray make use of me in any way that strikes you. I hear he is on the point of leaving England again." "I'm glad of it," exclaimed the old lady. "Why do I say so? I'm glad of nothing; but I'm sure it's better. What business could he and Mr. Larkin, and that Jew, have with my child, who, thank God, is in Heaven, and out of the reach of their hands, _evil_ hands, I dare say." "So I rather think also, ma'am; and Mr. Larkin tried, did he?"