MISS BADSWORTH, M.F.H. 191 



*' Don't you ? You are too kind-hearted, Mrs. Barlow. 

 Why has Miss Lavvy gone to Cranston to help my aunt as 

 secretary or something if it isn't to keep me out ? How- 

 ever, she will sing a different tune by-and-by, you see if 

 she doesn't, when I'm master. I don't know that I shall 

 give her a chance, though she is a good sort of girl." 



" Perhaps she won't give you one," Mrs. Barlow replied 

 shortly. Miss Lavvy was a great favourite. " Such things 

 have happened. I wouldn't make too sure; I'd wait till I 

 was master." 



" My dear Mrs. Barlow," Bickersdyke said, forgetting his 

 resolution and holding out his glass for Lucy to replenish 

 it, " there's no earthly doubt of my coming int® my rights 

 in December next. Ask Tom, he knows something about 

 the business ; they might just as well suppose that I who 

 hardly ever was on a horse in my life could hunt the hounds 

 for a month or even a day as expect my aunt to do it. Be- 

 sides which — I'm pretty well posted in what goes on — I hear 

 there's some one to whom my aunt has given the job." 



" Maybe it's to get 'em handy," Tom said from the van- 

 tage ground of his chair, whence he could bestow a placid 

 but knowing look at the ceiling. 



What Summers had said relating to Ned Barlow's reticence 

 was perfectly true, yet in answer to sundry inquiries he had 

 dropped dark hints in a letter, under the seal of secrecy ; 

 thumbs-crews might have squeezed the truth out of Mr. 

 Barlow, senior, but no minor coercive power, and, fortunately, 

 those instruments of torture had become obsolete. The 

 ceiling had heard much ever since it had last been white- 

 washed, but it could be relied upon to hold its peace, which 

 was a pity for otherwise it might have been entertaining. 



** Well, I intend to go up into that neighbourhood shortly, 

 just to keep an eye on things. There's Mr. John Morgan 

 to be considered, and some one ought to be there to see he 

 does his duty as executor ; he's a trifle too familiar at Cran- 

 ston to please me." 



" I'm sure he seemed a nice sort of gentleman when he 



