"And the Rector 'ull find out all about Sir 'Ector, I s'pose?" "Mrs. Mellin, you are much too curious about your neighbours," said Mrs. Craver, severely, and quite overlooking the fact that she was encouraging the woman to gossip. "Learn to mind your own business, and don't pry into other people's concerns. Probably Sir Hector has heard that the air is good here, and has come down for the benefit of his health." "Ho!" Mrs. Mellin rubbed her nose and took no notice of the rebuke. "He's ill then, is he?" "Now I come to think of it, Edwin did mention his name," murmured Mrs. Craver to herself, while the washerwoman strained her ears to listen. "Sir Hector Wyke? Yes. He is a rich man, very popular and fashionable in London. Not so young as he was, and engaged to a young lady." "She hev throwed him over." cried Mrs. Mellin, eagerly, "and his 'eart is broke, so he hev come down 'ere to pine away and die. 'Eaven, what grass we are, and 'ow soon we're cast inter the oven!" "Don't be silly, Mrs. Mellin. Sir Hector has probably come down for his health, and wishing to be quiet has only brought his housekeeper with him. There is no mystery about the matter." "Baronets who live in style don't come to cussed 'ouses with one old woman to look after them." said Mrs. Mellin doggedly. "Mark my words, ma'am, there's going to be a tragity at Maranatha, and it won't be the fust, ma'am." "We don't have tragedies here, you foolish woman." "Oh, don't we, ma'am?" Mrs. Mellin stood up to give her words due effect. "Why, that 'ouse in Ladysmith Road is full of 'em. And, if you remember, Richard Jones beat his wife to death only five years back, and Mrs. Warner ran away with the purser of a ship as went to Chiner; while the children as hev been scalded to death and drownded is 'undreds, you might put it. No tragity!" Mrs. Mellin snorted. "Why, ma'am, my own sister Laura was in one." "She only ran away." said Mrs. Craver, also standing up to intimate that the conference was ended. "And 'oo did she run with?" inquired the washerwoman mysteriously, "She was 'ere to-day and gone to-morrer, as you might say. Twenty and more years ago she was as lovely a gel as you ever see, but disappear she did, leaving nothing be'ind to tell her whereabouts, and not a line hev I 'ad since. Why, you remember Laura yourself, ma'am, as you was only a five year bride when you come 'ere with Mr. Craver." "I remember that your sister disappeared during the first year of my husband becoming Rector of Hedgerton," said Mrs. Craver, drily. "She was a pretty girl, but flighty and discontented. And as she was always fond of the theatre, I daresay she went on the stage. Of course, as she was twenty-five when she disappeared, she was old enough to choose her own way, although I can't say that either I or Mr. Craver approved of her choice."