“You’re a nice man, Rawdon, when every decent person has gone to church, gallivanting with young ladies.  I saw you at the Talfourds.”

“Don’t care a ’ang if you did,” replied Rawdon, “if Miss Do Pleas us takes a shine to a warm man, and gives you ’and-to-mouth beggars the go-by, that honly shows ’er common sense.”

“What has Miss Du Plessis got to do with it?”

“She’s got this to do with it, that she’s promised to be my missus before the week’s hout.”

“When?”

“Wy, this mornin’; ’ere in this blessed room.”

“Oh, come, Rawdon, you are joking.  Miss Du Plessis hasn’t been out of Mrs. Talfourd’s to-day.”

“Don’t you try none of your larks hon me, Mr. Chisholm.  You can’t take a rise hout of this kid, hinnercent has he looks.”

“But, I tell you she has not.  Who do you think that girl was you brought home Talfourd’s place?”

“Wy, Miss Do Please us, of course; ’oo else could it be?”

Mr. Chisholm laughed loud and long, and at last ejaculated:  “Miss Du Plessis!  Oh, but you’re a green hand, Rawdon, to take Martha Baggs for her; the daughter of old Baggs, in the revenue service.  Hope you didn’t give your friends away, Rawdon?”

“You think you’re pretty clever, Mr. Chisholm, comin’ hover me with your Marther Baggses.  Hold Hirish knows Miss Do Please-us, I should say, and wouldn’t go takin’ no Marther Baggs for ’er.”

“Mr. Rawdon,” interposed the Squire, “I’ll thank you to speak more respectfully of my father-in-law; as good a man, I judge, as yourself.”

“No hoffence, Squire; but I wish you’d hask the hold gent to come ’ere and shut up this ’ere bailiff’s mouth with ’is Marther Baggs.”

Mr. Terry, who preferred the society of the kitchen to that of the parlour, was produced, and, on being asked if the lady with Mr. Rawdon was Miss Du Plessis, answered that his “sight was gettin’ bad, an’ the sinse av hairin’ too, an’ if it wor Miss Jewplesshy, she had changed her vice intoirely, an’ got to be cruel rough an’ common in her ways.  Av coorse, it moight have been the young misthress; but Talfer’s was nigh to han’, an’ it was aisy axin’.”

A horrible suspicion came over the Grinstun man, and paled his rubicund visage.  He darted up to his room, and speedily re-appeared with knapsack on back and staff in hand, ready for the road.  Mr. Carruthers pressed him to stay at least for dinner, but he was resolved to solve the mystery by a visit to the Talfourds, and said that, if Mr. Chisholm was right, he would not be back for a while.  His retreating figure was watched with positive pleasure by most of the company, and with still greater satisfaction by the small party returning from the Anglican service.

“What garred ye fricht Rawdon awa, Mr. Chisholm?” asked the Squire.

“I wanted to eat my dinner comfortably,” replied the detective, putting beard and moustache in his pocket, when all the company, except the dominie who knew, cried out, “it’s Mr. Nash.”