“He ain’t got the go about him Miss Juliet have,” said Thomas.

“A lot you know,” was the cook’s retort.  “Why Mr. Basil quarrelled with missus a week ago and gave her proper, and missus ain’t no easy person to fight with, as I knows.  Mr. Basil left the house and ain’t been near since.”

“He’s a fool, then,” said Thomas.  “Missus won’t leave him a penny.”

“She’ll leave it to Miss Juliet Saxon, which is just the same.  I never did see brother and sister so fond of one another as those two.  I believe she’d put the ’air of ’er head—­and lovely ’air it is, too—­under his blessed feet to show him she loves him.”

“She’d do the same by Mr. Mallow,” said Geraldine, tittering.

Here Susan interrupted.  “Who is the old lady who comes here?”

“Oh, she’s Mrs. Herne,” said the cook.  “A cross, ’aughty old thing, who fights always.  She’s been coming here with Mr. Jarvey Hale and Mr. Clancy for the last three years.  They play whist every evening and go away regular about ten.  Missus let’s ’em out themselves or else rings for me.  Why, there’s the bell now,” and Mrs. Pill rose.

“No!  I go,” said Susan, rising also.  “Miss Loach told me to come when she rang.”

Mrs. Pill nodded and resumed her seat and her darning.  “Lor bless you, my love, I ain’t jealous,” she said.  “My legs ain’t as young as they was.  ’Urry, my dear, missus is a bad ’un to be kept waitin’.”

Thus urged, Susan hastened to the front part of the house and down the stairs.  The door of the sitting-room was open.  She knocked and entered, to find Mr. Clancy, who looked rougher and more foolish than ever, standing by the table.  Miss Loach, with a pack of cards on her lap, was talking, and Susan heard the concluding sentence as she entered the room.

“You’re a fool, Clancy,” said Miss Loach, emphatically.  “You know Mrs. Herne doesn’t like to be contradicted.  You’ve sent her away in a fine rage, and she’s taken Hale with her.  Quite spoilt our game of—­ah, here’s Susan.  Off with you, Clancy.  I wish to be alone.”

The man would have spoken, but Miss Loach silenced him with a sharp gesture and pointed to the door.  In silence he went upstairs with Susan, and in silence left the house.  It was a fine night, and Susan stopped for a moment at the door to drink in the fresh air.  She heard the heavy footsteps of a policeman draw near and he passed the house, to disappear into the path on the opposite side of the road.  When Susan returned to the kitchen she found supper ready.  Soon the servants were seated at the table and talking brightly.

“Who does that house at the back belong to?” asked Susan.

“To Lord Caranby,” said Thomas, although not directly addressed.  “It’s unfinished.”

“Yes and shut up.  Lord Caranby was in love with a lady and built that house for her.  Before it was ready the lady died and Lord Caranby left the house as it was and built a high wall round it.  He then went travelling and has been travelling ever since.  He never married either, and his nephew, Mr. Cuthbert Mallow, is heir to the title.”