Dilly, Sybil's own maid, had been taken abroad by Miss Pendleton, which fact gave additional scandal to the gossips.
"The impudence of her!" they said, "to take the late Mrs. Berners' very maid, before even she had fairly married the widower."
All this, when it came to Miss Tabby's ears, made that faithful but desponding soul whimper all the more.
Miss Tabby had but few recreations at Black Hall. Going to church every Sunday in the old carryall, with little Cro' by her side and Joe on the box, was her "most chiefest."
Then once a month or so, she went to take tea with her parents and sister; or she walked over to spend an afternoon at the cottage occupied by Robert Munson, who had married Rachel, the pretty daughter of that Norfolk inn-*keeper, who had been Lyon's and Sybil's host at the time of their first flight.
And sometimes Miss Tabby had both these families up at Black Hall, to pass a day with her.
But wherever Miss Tabby went, she always took little Cro'; and whoever came to the house had to make much of the child, or get little favor from his "aunty."
As for Joe, Robert Munson, and other of Sybil's devoted friends, they felt, in their secret hearts, that Sybil was safe in foreign parts, and that her husband and friends had gone to join her; but as no one had actually imparted this intelligence to them, they never talked over the subject except among themselves.
Thus passed the winter; but with the opening of the spring, an event occurred that for a while even superseded the "Hallow Eve Mystery," in the fever of curiosity and interest it excited in the valley.
The great Dubarry manor, so long held in abeyance, was claimed!—claimed by a gentleman in right of his wife—claimed by no less a person than Mr. Horace Blondelle, once the husband and afterwards the widower of that beautiful Rosa Blondelle who had been so mysteriously murdered at Black Hall, and now the bridegroom of Gentiliska, the great-granddaughter and only lineal descendant and heiress of Philip Dubarry and Gentiliska his wife.