These and similar reflections brought her, ere she was aware, to the entrance of the dairy. She was surprised, and somewhat uneasy that Ernest had not overtaken her, since leisurely as she had walked, it would have cost him so little exertion. It was possible that pre-occupied by other thoughts, he had taken a different and more circuitous path; trusting this was the case, and still hoping he would soon appear, she accepted the dairy-woman's invitation, and went into her cool parlour to rest herself. Whilst thus at the good gossip's mercy, she was compelled to listen to a succession of strictures and anecdotes on the subject / of the neighbouring villagers, that for scandal and invidiousness, could not have been excelled by a whole conclave of aged country-town spinsters, long practised in the art of defamation. Amongst the rest, she failed not to bring forward the names of Mrs. Nelson and Ruth, saying slyly: –

‘They two be no fools, Miss Ella, whatever else they may be! My belief is, the best thing we can all do, is to see, and hear, and say nothing. Who knows what Mrs. Ruth may come to be?’

‘I hope,’ said Ella, ‘she may come to be the wife of some deserving man, who will treat her kindly, and have the means of maintaining her with comfort.’

‘Ah, Miss, that's not what they, (I mean both mother and daughter) are fishing for; they look for grander prey, I can tell you, though, may be, near as the thing consarns you, you know less about it than any of us.’

‘Concerns me, Mrs. Roy! what can you mean?’

‘I mean as I says, Miss Ella; but perhaps it would not become me to speak more plainer. I might affront you, my dear young lady, and I am sure I would not wilfully do that for the world. All I shall say is, there be strange doings going on at John Nelson's farm.’