“What? Does he come to the Rect’ry o’ nights?”
“No. She waits till every one’s asleep, and then she goes to him.”
“Nay, do she, lass?” cried the old man. “Yes, gran’fa. She gets out of her bedroom window, and down on to the summer-house, and then goes.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen her out of my window, gran’fa, night after night: and then she runs down the green path to the meadows, and—”
“Meets him there?”
“No,” said Dally, shaking her head.
“Where does she go, then?”
“Can’t you guess, gran’fa?”
“Nay. Yes. Up to the Hall.”