“An old family?”
“The sixteenth baronet.”
Mr. Johnson was properly impressed.
“Any family?” he enquired.
“One son—Mr. Gregory Ballaston. Then the Squire’s brother—Mr. Henry Ballaston—lives at the Hall with him,” the butler added, after a scarcely perceptible pause. “Not that he’s much company for any one, though.”
“Indeed,” Mr. Johnson murmured. “Is he too a recluse or an invalid?”
There seemed to be a marked disinclination to discuss the inmates of the Hall. The innkeeper looked out of the window, Mr. Craske gazed into his tankard, the young man remained still almost outside the conversation.
“Things up at the Hall,” the butler confided, with some reserve, “are not what they used to be. There have come a change over the place.”
“A change indeed,” the grocer sighed gloomily.
Mr. Johnson sensed reserves and prepared for departure.