'The owner's name is Haredale, Mr Geoffrey Haredale, and'--again
he glanced in the same direction as before--'and a worthy gentleman
too--hem!'

Paying as little regard to this admonitory cough, as to the significant
gesture that had preceded it, the stranger pursued his questioning.

'I turned out of my way coming here, and took the footpath that crosses
the grounds. Who was the young lady that I saw entering a carriage? His
daughter?'

'Why, how should I know, honest man?' replied Joe, contriving in the
course of some arrangements about the hearth, to advance close to his
questioner and pluck him by the sleeve, 'I didn't see the young lady,
you know. Whew! There's the wind again--AND rain--well it IS a night!'

Rough weather indeed!' observed the strange man.

'You're used to it?' said Joe, catching at anything which seemed to
promise a diversion of the subject.

'Pretty well,' returned the other. 'About the young lady--has Mr
Haredale a daughter?'

'No, no,' said the young fellow fretfully, 'he's a single
gentleman--he's--be quiet, can't you, man? Don't you see this talk is
not relished yonder?'

Regardless of this whispered remonstrance, and affecting not to hear it,