MISS BADSWORTH, M.F.H. 255 



" They've been playing a trick, ma'am. It's a drag. I 

 wondered to see 'em strung out so." 



Lavvy flushed crimson with anger. It was an insult, a 

 trick played on a woman who could not defend herself. 



" How deep is the well ? " she asked shortly. 



" About twelve foot, I reckon," said Bill's voice. 



''And you are not hurt ? " 



*' No, I bein't hurt." 



*• Then you can stay there. We're out of our country, we 

 can't dig out." 



She walked with as much dignity as a pair of top-boots 

 worn amongst old bricks covered by docks permitted to the 

 spot where the Banker was being led about by a small boy. 



" I suppose he's got in," Majendie called to her. 



'' Yes." 



" Aren't you going to have him out ? " 



" It's not our country." 



Lavvy mounted her horse and went back to the road ; her 

 shoulders were very square, and she looked straight in front 

 of her. 



" What are you going to do next, Lavvy ? " her father 

 asked. 



" Go home." Then, putting her hand on the cantle of her 

 saddle and turning round, she added, " Some people, who 

 can have no claim to be gentlemen, have insulted me. If 

 anybody wants to know who they are, they can ask Bill 

 Hart at the bottom of the well yonder, he will probably 

 know." 



Miss Lavvy rode slowly back towards Cranston. 



" What the deuce does she mean ? " Mr. Badsworth asked. 



" We had better go back and see," Jack Morgan suggested. 



And they went, and Jimmy Edwards went too. 



** It was somewhere about here that the longest time was 

 spent," Jack said, when the trio had waded some distance 

 in the coarse herbage and rubbish. " Miss Lavvy mentioned 

 a well, we had better mind where we are going." 



