Externally things went on at Knowl for some weeks in the usual routine. Madame was, so far as her unpleasant ways were concerned, less tormenting than before, and constantly reminded me of 'our leetle vow of friendship, you remember, dearest Maud!' and she would stand beside me, and looked from the window with her bony arm round my waist, and my reluctant hand drawn round in hers; and thus she would smile, and talk affectionately and even playfully; for at times she would grow quite girlish, and smile with her great carious teeth, and begin to quiz and babble about the young 'faylows,' and tell bragging tales of her lovers, all of which were dreadful to me. She was perpetually recurring, too, to the charming walk we had had together to Church Scarsdale, and proposing a repetition of that delightful excursion, which, you may be sure, I evaded, having by no means so agreeable a recollection of our visit. One day, as I was dressing to go out for a walk, in came good Mrs. Rusk, the housekeeper, to my room. 'Miss Maud, dear, is not that too far for you? It is a long walk to Church Scarsdale, and you are not looking very well.' 'To Church Scarsdale?' I repeated; 'I'm not going to Church Scarsdale; who said I was going to Church Scarsdale? There is nothing I should so much dislike.' 'Well, I never!' exclaimed she. 'Why, there's old Madame's been down-stairs with me for fruit and sandwiches, telling me you were longing to go to Church Scarsdale----' 'It's quite untrue,' I interrupted. 'She knows I hate it.' 'She does?' said Mrs. Rusk, quietly; 'and you did not tell her nothing about the basket? Well--if there isn't a story! Now what may she be after--what is it--what _is_ she driving at?' 'I can't tell, but I won't go.' 'No, of course, dear, you won't go. But you may be sure there's some scheme in her old head. Tom Fowkes says she's bin two or three times to drink tea at Farmer Gray's--now, could it be she's thinking to marry him?' And Mrs. Rusk sat down and laughed heartily, ending with a crow of derision. 'To think of a young fellow like that, and his wife, poor thing, not dead a year--maybe she's got money?' 'I don't know--I don't care--perhaps, Mrs. Rusk, you mistook Madame. I will go down; I am going out.' Madame had a basket in her hand. She held it quietly by her capacious skirt, at the far side, and made no allusion to the preparation, neither to the direction in which she proposed walking, and prattling artlessly and affectionately she marched by my side. Thus we reached the stile at the sheep-walk, and then I paused. 'Now, Madame, have not we gone far enough in this direction?--suppose we visit the pigeon-house in the park?' 'Wat folly! my dear a Maud--you cannot walk so far.' 'Well, towards home, then.' 'And wy not a this way? We ave not walk enough, and Mr. Ruthyn he will not be pleased if you do not take proper exercise. Let us walk on by the path, and stop when you like.' 'Where do you wish to go, Madame?'