Go, sir, and leave us.' Moved by the abrupt change, as well as by her beauty, Sir George lingered; muttering that perhaps he could help her in another way.

But she shook her head, once and again; and, instinctively respecting the grief which had found at length its proper vent, he turned and, softly lifting the latch, went out into the court.
The night air cooled his brow, and recalled him to sober earnest and the eighteenth century.

In the room which he had left, he had marked nothing out of the common except the girl.

The mother, the furniture, the very bed on which the dead man lay, all were appropriate, and such as he would expect to find in the house of his under-steward.

But the girl?
The girl was gloriously handsome; and as eccentric as she was beautiful.