He drove out of the town again, in a different direction, for about a mile. On rising ground, overlooking the green valley of the Ouse, stood a small, plain, solidly-built house, sheltered on the cold side by a row of fine hawthorns, nearly as high as the top of its chimneys. In front, bordered along the road by hollies as impenetrable as a stone wall, lay a bright little flower garden. The Haws, originally built for the bailiff of an estate, long since broken up, was nearly a century old. Here Will's father was born, and here, after many wanderings, he had spent the greater part of his married life. "Sam," said Will, as they drew up at the gate, "I don't think I shall pay for this drive. You're much richer than I am." "Very good, sir," was the chuckling reply, for Sam knew he always had to expect a joke of this kind from young Mr. Warburton. "As you please, sir." "You couldn't lend me half-a-crown, Sam?" "I daresay I could, sir, if you really wanted it." "Do then." Will pocketed the half-crown, jumped off the trap, and took his bag. "After all, Sam, perhaps I'd better pay. Your wife might grumble. Here you are." He handed two shillings and sixpence in small change, which Sam took and examined with a grin of puzzlement. "Well, what's the matter? Don't you say thank you, nowadays?" "Yes, sir--thank you, sir--it's all right, Mr. Will." "I should think it is indeed. Be here to-morrow morning, to catch the 6.30 up train, Sam." As Will entered the garden, there came forward a girl of something and twenty, rather short, square shouldered, firmly planted on her feet, but withal brisk of movement; her face was remarkable for nothing but a grave good-humour. She wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, and her gardening gloves showed how she was occupied. Something of shyness appeared in the mutual greeting of brother and sister. "Of course, you got my letter this morning?" said Will. "Yes." "Mr. Turnbull is coming up to-night." "I'm glad of that," said Jane thoughtfully, rubbing her gloves together to shake off moist earth. "Of course he'll prophesy disaster, and plunge you both into the depths of discouragement. But I don't mind that. I feel so confident myself that I want some one to speak on the other side. He'll have to make inquiries, of course.--Where's mother?" The question was answered by Mrs. Warburton herself, who at that moment came forth from the house; a tall, graceful woman, prematurely white-headed, and enfeebled by ill-health. Between her and Jane there was little resemblance of feature; Will, on the other hand, had inherited her oval face, arched brows and sensitive mouth. Emotion had touched her cheek with the faintest glow, but ordinarily it was pale as her hand. Nothing, however, of the invalid declared itself in her tone or language; the voice, soft and musical, might have been that of a young woman, and its vivacity was only less than that which marked the speech of her son.