"I don't think I do, neither," returned Jim. "I'm a'most sure old Canham was right afore the fire, smoking his pipe as usual. She put the door to behind her, all in a hurry, while she talked to me, but not afore I see old Canham there. I be next to certain of it." Nora could not understand the state of affairs. Ann Canham, humble, industrious, grateful for any day's work offered to her, had never failed to come, when engaged, in all Barbrook's experience. What was to be done? The morrow was Saturday, and to have the cleaning extended to that day would have upset the farm's regularity and Nora's temper for a month. Nora took a sudden resolution. She put on her bonnet and shawl and set off for the lodge, determined to bring Ann Canham back willing or unwilling, or know the reason why. This _contretemps_ would be quite a life-long memory for Nora. Without any superfluous knocking, Nora turned the handle of the door when she reached the lodge. But the door was locked. "What can that be for?" ejaculated Nora--for she had never known the lodge locked in the day-time. "She expects I shall come after her, and thinks she'll keep me out!" Without an instant's delay, Nora's face was at the window, to reconnoitre the interior. She saw the smock-frock of old Mark disappearing through the opposite door as quickly as was consistent with his rheumatism. Nora rattled the handle of the door with one hand, and knocked sharply on its panel with the other. Ann opened it. "Now, Ann Canham, what's the meaning of this?" she began, pushing past Ann, who stood in the way, almost as if she would have kept her out. "I beg a humble pardon, ma'am, a hundred times," was the low, deprecating answer. "I'd do anything rather than disappoint you--such a thing has never happened to me yet--but I'm obliged. Father's too poorly for me to leave him." Nora surveyed her critically. The woman was evidently in a state of discomfort, if not terror. She trembled visibly, and her lips were white. "I got a boy to run down to Mrs. Sanders's this morning at daylight, and ask her to take my place," resumed Ann Canham. "Until Jim came up here a short while ago, I never thought but she had went." "What's the reason _you_ can't come?" demanded Nora, uncompromisingly stern. "I'd come but for father." "You needn't peril your soul with deliberate untruths," interrupted angry Nora. "There's nothing the matter with your father; nothing that need hinder your coming out. If he's well enough to be in the house-place, smoking his pipe, he's well enough to be left. He _was_ smoking. And what's that?"--pointing to the pipe her eyes had detected in the corner of the hearth. Ann Canham stood the picture of helplessness under the reproach. She stammered out that she "daredn't leave him: he wasn't himself to-day." "He was sufficiently himself to make off on seeing me," said angry Nora. "What's to become of my cleaning? Who's to do it if you don't? I insist upon your coming, Ann Canham."