'No, sir; not with the young Squire. He has been in foreign parts for years.'
'Yes, that's true; he came home a week ago to find his father dead and buried, and the old place a ruin for him to build up, and money short to do it.'
Again there was silence, till a pair of large gates came in sight and a long avenue of firs leading up to a house, of which the low front was seen at the end of the drive.
'Is this Squire Bayfield's house, sir?'
'Yes, and I have business there also, so we will walk up to the door together.'
Bryda hesitated, and then said,—
'I have business with the Squire, sir; but it is of a private nature, and I must see him alone.'
'That I'll warrant you shall do, madam,' and insensibly the man's manner became more respectful.
This was no country maiden to whom he might offer any familiarity, praise her beauty, or rally her on her charms. Bryda had always about her that innate purity and refinement, which acts as a shield against the shafts of impertinent admiration which men of a certain type in the eighteenth century were apt to offer to win favour with the belles of town or country.
A short flight of stone steps led to the front entrance of the house, and here the young man paused. After a moment's hesitation he opened the door, and a parcel of dogs of all shapes and sizes came rushing out, whining and capering with delight.