for the squire settled back quietly into his chair, took a long
swallow of beer, and resumed his letter.

"What does Mr. Cauldwell say, dadda?" inquired the
daughter.

"Hmm," said Mr. Meredith. "That he sends me the likeliest
one from his last shipment. What sort of fellow is he,
Phil?"

Hennion paused to swallow an over-large mouthful, which
almost produced a choking fit, before he could reply. "He
han't a civil word about him, squire--a regular sullen dog."

"Cauldwell writes guardedly, saying it was the best he could
do. Where d' ye leave him, lad?"

"Outside, in my waggon."

"Peg, bid him to come in. We'll have a look at--" Mr.
Meredith consulted the covenant enclosed and read, "Charles
Fownes heigh?"

A moment later, preceded by the maid, Fownes entered.
He took a quick, almost furtive, survey of the room, then
glanced in succession at each of those seated about the table,
till his eyes rested on Janice. There they fixed themselves in
a bold, unconcealed scrutiny, to the no small embarrassment of
the maiden, though the man himself stood in an easy, unconstrained
attitude, quite unheeding the five pairs of eyes staring