“We shall see,” said she. “Come, Josephine, I have a whole morning's work before me in the flower-garden, and I want your help. Don't forget, Peter, that Major M'Cormick's butler, or boatman, or bailiff, whichever he be, has been up here with a present of seakale this morning. Give him something as you pass the kitchen; and you, Mr. Withering, whose trade it is to read and unravel mysteries, explain if you can the meaning of this unwonted generosity.”
“I suppose we can all guess it,” said he, laughing. “It's a custom that begins in the East and goes round the whole world till it reaches the vast prairie in the Far West.”
“And what can that custom be, Aunt Dinah?” asked Josephine, innocently.
“It's an ancient rite Mr. Withering speaks, of, child, pertaining to the days when men offered sacrifices. Come along; I 'm going!”
CHAPTER VII. CROSS-EXAMININGS.
While Barrington and his lawyer sat in conclave over the details of the great suit, Stapylton hurried along his road with all the speed he could summon. The way, which for some miles led along the river-side, brought into view M'Cormick's cottage, and the Major himself, as he stood listlessly at his door.'
Halting his carriage for a moment, Stapylton jumped out and drew nigh the little quickset hedge which flanked the road.
“What can I do for you in the neighborhood of Manchester, Major? We are just ordered off there to ride down the Radicals.”
“I wish it was nearer home you were going to do it,” said he, crankily. “Look here,”—and he pointed to some fresh-turned earth,—“they were stealing my turnips last night.”