"Mark my words! Your missus won't be a widder long. Ever 'eard of a Major
Radmore?"

The speaker did not notice that the little boy sitting on the bench
stiffened unconsciously.

"Major Radmore?" repeated the listener. "Folk in Beechfield did know a
chap called Radmore. Lives in Australia, he does. He sent home some money
for a village club 'e did, but nothing 'as been done about it yet. Some
do say old Tosswill's sticking to the cash--a gent as what they calls
trustee of it all. But then who'd trust anyone with a load o' money? The
chap I'm thinking of used to live at Tosswill's a matter of ten years
ago."

"Then 'tis the same one!" exclaimed the other eagerly, "and, if so,
you'll not lack good things. Likely as not the Major's your future
master. 'E's got plenty, and a generous soul too. Gave me a present last
year when he was a stopping at Fildy Fe Manor. The Major, 'e bought one
of our dawgs, and I sent it off for 'im to Old Place, Beechfield, damn
me if I don't remember it now--name of Tosswill too." He stopped short,
and then, as if he had thought better of what he was going to say, he
observed musingly: "Some says Jack Piper's a blabber--but they don't know
me! But one thing I'll tell you. The're two after the Missus, for all the
Colonel's 'ardly cold, so to speak, but I put my money on the dark one."

He had hardly uttered these cryptic words when a pretty young woman
opened the door which gave on to the stable-yard from the house:
"Dinner-time!" she called out merrily.