say that the abbey is quite uninhabited.'

''Tis a pity,' said Lady Annabel, 'for, with all its desolation, there
is something about this spot which ever greatly interests me.'

'Mamma, why does no one live here?' said Venetia.

'The master of the abbey lives abroad, my child.'

'Why does he, mamma?'

'Never ask questions, Miss Venetia,' said Mistress Pauncefort, in a
hushed and solemn tone; 'it is not pretty.' Lady Annabel had moved
away.

The groom returned, and said he had met an old man, picking
water-cresses, and he was the only person who lived in the abbey,
except his wife, and she was bedridden. The old man had promised to
admit them when he had completed his task, but not before, and the
groom feared it would be some time before he arrived.

'Come, Pauncefort, rest yourself on this bench,' said Lady Annabel,
seating herself in the porch; 'and Venetia, my child, come hither to
me.'

'Mamma,' said Venetia, 'what is the name of the gentleman to whom this
abbey belongs?'

'Lord Cadurcis, love.'