She and James would miss her companionship sorely, and it could not be considered an extravagance, since the money she had received for her would pay for the cost of her keep for years to come.
When Mrs.Walsham's mind was once made up, her only fear was that these mysterious plans of the sergeant would not allow him to leave Aggie with her.
Punctual to the day, Sergeant Wilks arrived, and after a little talk in the parlour, as usual, with James and Aggie present, he formally requested the favour of a conversation with Mrs.Walsham alone.
"Take Aggie for a walk, James.

Do not stay out above three quarters of an hour, as your tea will be ready for you then." "You must have wondered, ma'am, a good deal," the sergeant began when they were alone, "why I, who get my living by travelling the country with a peep show, wished to place my grandchild in a position above her, and to have her taught to be a little lady.

It is time now that I should tell you.

Aggie is my granddaughter, but she is the granddaughter, too, of Squire Linthorne up at the Hall." "Bless me!" Mrs.Walsham ejaculated, too astonished for any further expression of her feelings.
"Yes, ma'am, she is the daughter of the squire's son Herbert, who married my daughter Cissie." "Dear me, dear me," Mrs.Walsham said, "what an extraordinary thing! Of course I remember Herbert Linthorne, a handsome, pleasant young fellow.
He was on bad terms, as everyone heard, eight years ago, with his father, because he married somebody beneath--I mean somebody of whom the squire did not approve.

A year afterwards, we heard that he was dead, and there was a report that his wife was dead, too, but that was only a rumour.