could not find a place near him. He offered to give a guinea yearly
towards the rent out of his wages; and Mr. Gilbert spoke about it for him
to the steward, and inquired whether, amongst any of those who had given
in proposals, there might not be one who would be content with a part of
the house, and who would join with Mary in paying the rent. None could
be found but a woman, who was a great scold, and a man who was famous for
going to law about every trifle with his neighbours. Mary did not choose
to have anything to do with these people. She did not like to speak
either to Miss Isabella or Caroline about it, because she was not of an
encroaching temper; and when they had done so much for her, she would
have been ashamed to beg for more. She returned home to the old castle,
mortified that she had no good news to tell Anne and Peggy, who she knew
expected to hear that she had found a nice house for them in the village
near their brother.

"Bad news for you, Peggy," cried she, as soon as she got home. "And bad
news for you, Mary," replied her sisters, who looked very sorrowful.

"What's the matter?"

"Your poor goat is dead," replied Peggy. "There she is, yonder, lying
under the great corner stone; you can just see her leg. We cannot lift
the stone from off her, it is so heavy. Betsy [one of the neighbour's
girls] says she remembers, when she came to us to work early this
morning, she saw the goat rubbing itself, and butting with its horns
against that old tottering chimney."

"Many's the time," said Mary, "that I have driven the poor thing away
from that place; I was always afraid she would shake that great ugly
stone down upon her at last."