From the top of his sleek round head to the sole of his perfect top-boot, the model and living exponent of what a servant should be--fit to be put into a case and ticketed as such.
He saluted her as she came in, and drawing a letter from his hat, put it into her astonished hands.

"My orders were, Miss, that I was not to give it to you unless I saw you personally." She thanked him and withdrew to read it.

It was a scrawl from George Hawker, the first letter she had ever received from him, and ran as follows:-- "MY HEART'S DARLING, "I SHALL be in the croft to-night, according to promise, ready to make you the happiest woman in England, so I know you won't fail.

My Lord is coming to church this afternoon, and will be sure to dine with you.

So I send this present by his groom, Sam; a good young chap, which I have known since he was so high, and like well, only that he is soft, which is not to his disadvantage.
G.H." She was standing under the lamp reading this when she heard the dining-room door open, and the men coming out from their wine.