Go, sir." "But--I beg pardon, your honour--if they be great folks ?" "Great folks!--great! Ay, there it is.

Why, if they be great folks, they have great houses of their own, Mr.Justis." The steward stared.

"Perhaps, your honour," he put in, deprecatingly, "they be Mr.Merton's family: they come very often when the London gentlemen are with them." "Merton!--oh, the cringing parson.

Harkye! one word more with me, sir, and you quit my service to-morrow." Mr.Justis lifted his eyes and hands to heaven; but there was something in his master's voice and look which checked reply, and he turned slowly to the door--when a voice of such heavenly sweetness was heard without that it arrested his own step and made the stern Maltravers start in his seat.

He held up his hand to the steward to delay his errand, and listened, charmed and spell-bound.