"Miss Travers wrote to me about a little business which she was good
enough to manage for me, and said you wished to know about it; and so,
after turning it over in my mind for a few days, I resolved to come to
town: indeed," added Tom, heartily, "I did wish to see your face
again."

"But you talk riddles. What business of yours could Miss Travers
imagine I wished to know about?"

Tom coloured high, and looked very embarrassed. Luckily, the servant
here entering with the refreshment-tray allowed him time to recover
himself. Kenelm helped him to a liberal slice of cold pigeon-pie,
pressed wine on him, and did not renew the subject till he thought his
guest's tongue was likely to be more freely set loose; then he said,
laying a friendly hand on Tom's shoulders, "I have been thinking over
what passed between me and Miss Travers. I wished to have the new
address of Will Somers; she promised to write to his benefactor to ask
permission to give it. You are that benefactor?"

"Don't say benefactor, sir. I will tell how it came about if you will
let me. You see, I sold my little place at Graveleigh to the new
Squire, and when Mother removed to Luscombe to be near me, she told me
how poor Jessie had been annoyed by Captain Stavers, who seems to
think his purchase included the young women on the property along with
the standing timber; and I was half afraid that she had given some
cause for his persecution, for you know she has a blink of those soft
eyes of hers that might charm a wise man out of his skin and put a
fool there instead."

"But I hope she has done with those blinks since her marriage."