The door was fastened by a catch and a latch with an inside key, to which at night a chain and two bolts were added. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. “Is this hansom for me?” she said. She swallowed hard. ” She set the letter down, and drew from her pocket another with a foreign post mark which had come the day before. Long ago. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers.
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