“I thought you said Lord Caranby loved Miss Loach?”

“No, I didn’t.  I said she could have married him had she played her cards properly.  But she didn’t, and Lord Caranby went away.  The lady who died was a friend of missus, and they were always together.  I think missus and she were jealous of Lord Caranby, both loving him.  But Miss Saul—­that was the other lady—­died, and Lord Caranby left the house as it stands, to go away.”

“He won’t allow anyone to set a foot in the house or grounds,” said Mrs. Pill, “there ain’t no gate in the wall—­”

“No gate,” echoed Susan astonished.

“Not a single ’ole as you could get a cat through.  Round and round the place that fifteen-feet wall is built, and the park, as they calls it, is running as wild as a cow.  Not a soul has set foot in that place for the last fifteen years.  But I expect when Mr. Mallow comes in for the title he’ll pull it down and build ’ouses.  I’m sure he ought to:  it’s a shame seeing land wasted like that.”

“Where is Lord Caranby now?”

“He lives in London and never comes near this place,” said Thomas.

“Is Miss Loach friendly with him now?” “No, she ain’t.  He treated her badly.  She’d have been a better Lady Caranby than Miss Saul”—­here Thomas started and raised a finger.  “Eh! wasn’t that the front door closing?”

All listened, but no sound could be heard.  “Perhaps missus has gone to walk in the garding,” said cook, “she do that at times.”

“Did you show ’ern out?” asked Thomas, looking at Susan.

“Only Mr. Clancy,” she answered, “the others had gone before.  I heard what Miss Loach was saying.  Mr. Clancy had quarrelled with Mrs. Herne and she had gone away with Mr. Hale.  Then Miss Loach gave it to him hot and sent him away.  She’s all alone.”

“I must have been mistaken about the door then,” said he.

“Not at all,” chimed in Mrs. Pill.  “Missus is walking as she do do in the garding, singing and adornin’ self with flowers.”

After this poetic flight of fancy on the part of the cook, the supper ended.  Thomas smoked a pipe and the housemaid cleared away.  Mrs. Pill occupied her time in putting her few straggling locks in curl-papers.

While Susan was assisting Geraldine, the bell rang.  All started.  “I thought missus had gone to bed,” cried the cook, getting up hurriedly.  “She’ll be in a fine rage if she finds us up.  Go to bed, Geraldine, and you, Thomas.  Susan, answer the bell.  She don’t like us not to be gettin’ our beauty sleep.  Bless me it’s eleving.”