At first the report was treated as an idle rumour, but when a carriage arrived one day at the Castle with an elderly gentleman and a much younger man, and a second carriage with a lady and her maid, there could be no doubt that something was about to take place. Moreover, the agent had been summoned to meet this old gentleman, and he and the new arrivals were known to have gone all over the Castle. This gentleman was the little Countess's guardian, and the younger man was his solicitor; and the lady was a distant relative of the little Countess, and was to be her caretaker—for her mother had been dead now three years.
Such a possibility as the Castle being inhabited could not take place without causing much talk in the village. Old and young had their say about it—some of the old, I am sorry to say, at the "Green Dragon," the village ale-house; and some at their cottage doors, or when they met in the street.
The children too had their ideas and speculations—very different, of course, from the older people's, but very decided, nevertheless.
As to the folk at the "Green Dragon," some were for the lady's coming and some were not, and each party were positive.
"I tell you," said old Joe Crupper, the saddler, "there ain't no good a-comin' out of this. We've got on very well hereabouts for many a year, without having anyone to worrit us from that place. Why can't they let it be as it has been so long? It don't want anyone to live in it to keep it warm. Why, I'm told that they've burnt thirty ton of coal in a winter to keep the place aired. We don't want no great people down here in these parts; we can get on well enough by ourselves. I didn't never know any good come of the haristockracy," said the saddler, giving the table a thump.
"But I'm told," chimed in a meek little man, who frequented the "Green Dragon" more for gossip than for drink, "that the new 'lord' is a little lady, and is only twelve years old."
"Joseph Simmons," said the saddler, looking witheringly into the little man's face, "you are a man of edication, and ought to know better. As to the little 'lord' being a lady, I ask you and all the company"—here the saddler looked round—"what difference does that make? Isn't a goose a goose, whether it's a goose or a gander? Would you say, when 'tis roasted, 'Who'll take a bit of gander?' No, goose or gander, 'tis a goose. In like manner, it don't matter whether 'tis a boy or girl, a man or a woman"—and here the saddler paused, evidently seeking for a further variety in sex, which he could not find—"excuse me," said he, looking deprecatingly round, "if I stop for a moment, for the argument is deep, and one's liable to get tangled a bit—a man or a woman. Yes, the argument is plain, and I defy you, Joseph Simmons, to beat it. A haristocrat is a haristocrat, whether it be man or woman, boy or girl."
"I humbly beg pardon if I've given any offence," said the meek little man. "You were once in London for a day, and you ought to know more than I do."
"All the haristockracy wear gold crowns," said Dolly.—p. 276.