“Ah, but they did say at the Foundling Hospital, where my father went to ask if they had no news of her, that her father was Quality, which would account for it, sir, the Quality being very easy in their ways,” explained Mrs. Mudgley simply. “A love-child, she was. I wouldn’t be telling the truth if I was to tell your Grace I’m wishful my son should wed with her, but see him in the dumps like he’s been ever since he lost her, I can’t. She won’t go trapesing off once she’s got a home of her own, and babies, and I daresay I shall be able to show her the way she should go on, for she was mightily taken with the farm, and they did teach her to bake and make at the Foundling Hospital, that I will say!”
“Yes” he said, looking round. “She would be happy here. She is not happy in Laura Place, I think. It’s strange to her, and she is a little afraid of Lady Ampleforth. And she thinks a great deal of your son, and of you.” He smiled. “You were very kind to her, she told me, finding it strange that any woman should show her kindness.”
Her heart was touched; she said: “Poor little dear! Do you bring her to me, sir, and don’t let her fear to be scolded, for it’s no manner of use scolding a pretty silly creature like her!”
A shadow darkened the doorway; the Duke looked up, and saw a sturdy young man confronting him, in breeches, and leggings, and with his shirt-sleeves rolled half-way up his tanned arms. He had a stolid, open countenance, in which a pair of widely set grey eyes squarely met the Duke’s. His mother jumped up, and went to him, chiding him for not having put on his coat and washed his hands before coming into the house, but he put her gently aside, saying, with his eyes still fixed on the Duke: “Mr. Moffat told me his Grace of Sale had news of Belinda, Mother.”
“Yes, yes, but make your bow, Jasper, do!” she adjured him. “His Grace has been so kind, you would not believe!”
“Has he?” said Mr. Mudgley heavily.
“Jasper, will you mind your manners? I don’t know what his Grace must be thinking of you, standing there like a gowk! And him giving the Five-acre to Belinda, as he will!”
The lines about Mr. Mudgley’s jaw seemed to harden. “I don’t care for that,” he said. “Nor I don’t rightly know why he should do any such thing, Mother.”
The Duke rose. “Not for any such reason as you have in your head,” he said. “Walk out with, me: we shall do better to talk this over alone.”
“I’m agreeable,” said Mr. Mudgley, in a level tone, and stood aside for him to pass out of the kitchen.