"I have his permission," he said in conclusion, "to confide the service
he rendered me, the intimacy that has sprung up between us, but to you
alone,--not a word to your guests. When you have once seen him, you will
understand why an eccentric man, who has known better days, would shrink
from the impertinent curiosity of idle customers. Contented with his
humble livelihood, he asks but liberty and repose."

"That I already comprehend," said Lady Montfort, half sighing, half
smiling. "But my curiosity shall not molest him, and when I visit the
village, I will pass by his cottage."

"Nay, my dear Lady Montfort, that would be to refuse the favour I am
about to ask, which is that you would come with me to that very cottage.
It would so please him."

"Please him! why?"

"Because this poor man has a young female grandchild, and he is so
anxious that you should see and be kind to her, and because, too, he
seems most anxious to remain in his present residence. The cottage, of
course, belongs to Lord Montfort, and is let to him by the bailiff, and
if you deign to feel interest in him, his tenure is safe."

Lady Montfort looked down, and coloured. She thought, perhaps, how false
a security her protection, and how slight an influence her interest would
be; but she did not say so. George went on; and so eloquently, and so
touchingly did he describe both grandsire and grandchild, so skilfully
did he intimate the mystery which hung over them, that Lady Montfort
became much moved by his narrative; and willingly promised to accompany
him across the park to the basketmaker's cottage the first opportunity.