She sat in the small room opening from the supper-room--small in comparison with the drawing-room, but still comfortable. On harvest-home night, Mrs. Ryle's visitors were received in that ordinary room and sat there, forming as it were part of the supper-room company, for the door was kept wide, and the great people went in and out, mixing with the small. George Ryle and Mr. Freeman would be more in the supper-room than in the other; they were two who liked to see the hard-working people happy now and then. Mrs. Ryle had taken up her place in the sitting-room; her rich black silk gown and real lace cap contrasting with the more showy attire of Mrs. Apperley, who sat next her. Mrs. Apperley was in a stiff brocade, yellow satin stripes flanking wavy lines of flowers. It had been her gala robe for years and years, and looked new yet. Mrs. Apperley's two daughters, in cherry-coloured ribbons and cherry-coloured nets, were as gay as she was; they were whispering to Caroline Ryle, a graceful girl in dark-blue silk, with the blue eyes and the fair hair of her deceased father. Farmer Apperley, in top-boots, was holding an argument on the state of the country with a young man of middle height and dark hair, who sat carelessly on the arm of the old-fashioned sofa. It was Trevlyn Ryle. George had set his back against the wall, and was laughingly quizzing the Miss Apperleys, of which they were blushingly conscious. Were you to believe Nora, there was scarcely a young lady within the circuit of a couple of leagues but was privately setting her cap at handsome George. A bustle in the outer room, and Nanny appeared with an announcement: "Parson and Mrs. Freeman." I am not responsible for the style of the introduction: you may hear it for yourselves if you choose to visit some of our rural districts. Parson and Mrs. Freeman came in without ceremony; the parson with his hat and walking stick, Mrs. Freeman in a green calico hood and an old cloak. George, with laughing gallantry, helped her to take them off, and handed them to Nanny, and Mrs. Freeman went up to the pier-glass and settled the white bows in her cap to greater effect. "But I thought you were to have brought your friend," said Mrs. Ryle. "He will come in presently," replied the parson. "A letter arrived by this evening's post, and he wished to answer it." Farmer Apperley turned from his debate with Trevlyn. "D'ye mean that droll-looking man who walks about with a red umbrella and a beard, parson?" "The same," said Mr. Freeman, settling his double chin more comfortably in his white cravat. "He has been staying with us for a week past." "Ay. Some foreign folk, isn't he, named Daw? There's all sorts of tales abroad in the neighbourhood as to what he is doing down here. I don't know whether they be correct." "I don't know much about it myself either," said Mr. Freeman. "I am glad to entertain him as an old friend, but as for any private affairs or views of his, I don't meddle with them."