Three miles to the left of the travellers, along the road they hadnot followed, rose an old house with mullioned windows of Ham-hillstone, and chimneys of lavish solidity. It stood at the top of aslope beside King's-Hintock village-street; and immediately in frontof it grew a large sycamore-tree, whose bared roots formed aconvenient staircase from the road below to the front door of thedwelling. Its situation gave the house what little distinctive nameit possessed, namely, 'The Knap.' Some forty yards off a brookdribbled past, which, for its size, made a great deal of noise. Atthe back was a dairy barton, accessible for vehicles and live-stockby a side 'drong.' Thus much only of the character of the homesteadcould be divined out of doors at this shady evening-time.

　　But within there was plenty of light to see by, as plenty wasconstrued at Hintock. Beside a Tudor fireplace, whose moulded four-centred arch was nearly hidden by a figured blue-cloth blower, wereseated two women--mother and daughter--Mrs. Hall, and Sarah, orSally; for this was a part of the world where the lattermodification had not as yet been effaced as a vulgarity by the marchof intellect. The owner of the name was the young woman by whosemeans Mr. Darton proposed to put an end to his bachelor condition onthe approaching day.

　　The mother's bereavement had been so long ago as not to leave muchmark of its occurrence upon her now, either in face or clothes. Shehad resumed the mob-cap of her early married life, enlivening itswhiteness by a few rose-du-Barry ribbons. Sally required no suchaids to pinkness. Roseate good-nature lit up her gaze; her featuresshowed curves of decision and judgment; and she might have beenregarded without much mistake as a warm-hearted, quick-spirited,handsome girl.

　　She did most of the talking, her mother listening with a half-absentair, as she picked up fragments of red-hot wood ember with thetongs, and piled them upon the brands. But the number of speechesthat passed was very small in proportion to the meanings exchanged.

　　Long experience together often enabled them to see the course ofthought in each other's minds without a word being spoken. Behindthem, in the centre of the room, the table was spread for supper,certain whiffs of air laden with fat vapours, which ever and anonentered from the kitchen, denoting its preparation there.

　　'The new gown he was going to send you stays about on the way likehimself,' Sally's mother was saying.

　　'Yes, not finished, I daresay,' cried Sally independently. 'Lord, Ishouldn't be amazed if it didn't come at all! Young men make suchkind promises when they are near you, and forget 'em when they goaway. But he doesn't intend it as a wedding-gown--he gives it to memerely as a gown to wear when I like--a travelling-dress is what itwould be called by some. Come rathe or come late it don't muchmatter, as I have a dress of my own to fall back upon. But whattime is it?'

　　She went to the family clock and opened the glass, for the hour wasnot otherwise discernible by night, and indeed at all times wasrather a thing to be investigated than beheld, so much more wallthan window was there in the apartment. 'It is nearly eight,' saidshe.

　　'Eight o'clock, and neither dress nor man,' said Mrs. Hall.

　　'Mother, if you think to tantalize me by talking like that, you aremuch mistaken! Let him be as late as he will--or stay awayaltogether--I don't care,' said Sally. But a tender, minute quaverin the negation showed that there was something forced in thatstatement.

　　Mrs. Hall perceived it, and drily observed that she was not so sureabout Sally not caring. 'But perhaps you don't care so much as Ido, after all,' she said. 'For I see what you don't, that it is agood and flourishing match for you; a very honourable offer in Mr.

　　Darton. And I think I see a kind husband in him. So pray God'twill go smooth, and wind up well.'

　　Sally would not listen to misgivings. Of course it would gosmoothly, she asserted. 'How you are up and down, mother!' she wenton. 'At this moment, whatever hinders him, we are not so anxious tosee him as he is to be here, and his thought runs on before him, andsettles down upon us like the star in the east. Hark!' sheexclaimed, with a breath of relief, her eyes sparkling. 'I heardsomething. Yes--here they are!'

　　The next moment her mother's slower ear also distinguished thefamiliar reverberation occasioned by footsteps clambering up theroots of the sycamore.

　　'Yes it sounds like them at last,' she said. 'Well, it is not sovery late after all, considering the distance.'

　　The footfall ceased, and they arose, expecting a knock. They beganto think it might have been, after all, some neighbouring villagerunder Bacchic influence, giving the centre of the road a wide berth,when their doubts were dispelled by the new-comer's entry into thepassage. The door of the room was gently opened, and thereappeared, not the pair of travellers with whom we have already madeacquaintance, but a pale-faced man in the garb of extreme poverty--almost in rags.

　　'O, it's a tramp--gracious me!' said Sally, starting back.

　　His cheeks and eye-orbits were deep concaves--rather, it might be,from natural weakness of constitution than irregular living, thoughthere were indications that he had led no careful life. He gazed atthe two women fixedly for a moment: then with an abashed,humiliated demeanour, dropped his glance to the floor, and sank intoa chair without uttering a word.

　　Sally was in advance of her mother, who had remained standing by thefire. She now tried to discern the visitor across the candles.

　　'Why--mother,' said Sally faintly, turning back to Mrs. Hall. 'Itis Phil, from Australia!'

　　Mrs. Hall started, and grew pale, and a fit of coughing seized theman with the ragged clothes. 'To come home like this!' she said.

　　'O, Philip--are you ill?'

　　'No, no, mother,' replied he impatiently, as soon as he could speak.

　　'But for God's sake how do you come here--and just now too?'

　　'Well, I am here,' said the man. 'How it is I hardly know. I'vecome home, mother, because I was driven to it. Things were againstme out there, and went from bad to worse.'

　　'Then why didn't you let us know?--you've not writ a line for thelast two or three years.'

　　The son admitted sadly that he had not. He said that he had hopedand thought he might fetch up again, and be able to send good news.

　　Then he had been obliged to abandon that hope, and had finally comehome from sheer necessity--previously to making a new start. 'Yes,things are very bad with me,' he repeated, perceiving theircommiserating glances at his clothes.

　　They brought him nearer the fire, took his hat from his thin hand,which was so small and smooth as to show that his attempts to fetchup again had not been in a manual direction. His mother resumed herinquiries, and dubiously asked if he had chosen to come thatparticular night for any special reason.

　　For no reason, he told her. His arrival had been quite at random.

　　Then Philip Hall looked round the room, and saw for the first timethat the table was laid somewhat luxuriously, and for a largernumber than themselves; and that an air of festivity pervaded theirdress. He asked quickly what was going on.

　　'Sally is going to be married in a day or two,' replied the mother;and she explained how Mr. Darton, Sally's intended husband, wascoming there that night with the groomsman, Mr. Johns, and otherdetails. 'We thought it must be their step when we heard you,' saidMrs. Hall.