master? He's just where the doctors left 'im, sittin' in his easy-
chair and looking out o' window."

"Was it--was it all right, do you think?" asked the girl,
hesitatingly.

"Now, lovey, don't ask me about doctors, 'cos I don't know nothin'
and wants to know nothin', for they be close-tongued folk who
never sez what they thinks lest they get their blessed selves into
hot water. And whether it's all right or all wrong, I couldn't
tell ye, for the two o' them went out together, and Mr. Slowton
sez 'Good-arternoon, Miss Friday!' quite perlite like, and the
other gentleman he lifts 'is 'at quite civil, so I should say
'twas all wrong. For if you mark me, lovey, men's allus extra
perlite when they thinks there's goin' to be trouble, hopin'
they'll get somethin' for theirselves out of it."

Innocent hardly waited to hear her last words.

"I'm going to Dad," she said, quickly, and disappeared.

Priscilla Friday stopped for a minute in the rolling-cut of her
pastry. Some great stress of thought appeared to be working behind
her wrinkled brow, for she shook her head, pursed her lips and
rolled up her eyes a great many times. Then she gave a short sigh
and went on with her work.

The farmhouse was a rambling old place, full of quaint corners,
arches and odd little steps up and down leading to cupboards,
mysterious recesses and devious winding ways which turned into