"No sur, I can't sell any, and my name edn't Mary but Em'ly, but I can give 'ee zum."
With that she ran to the house, and soon appeared with a quart jug, which she dipped into the bucket and filled, then handed it to me. I drank it greedily, and I did not take my lips from the jug until I had nearly emptied it. To me it was both meat and drink, and it gave me new life. I offered the girl money, but she refused it indignantly.
"As thoa," she said, "anybody cud taake money vur a drap a milk."
I had no difficulty in accomplishing the remaining distance after this, and soon after I came to the park gates of Morton Hall. Then the real difficulty of my position was revealed to me. What should I do now I had travelled these thirty-five long miles? what object could I have in visiting the house? what should I say if any one asked me my business?
Although I could not settle this in my mind, I opened the gate and strode up the long drive. It was a fine house, and had been kept in good repair. Great trees bordered the way, but hid not the colossal pile that was plainly to be seen at the end of the widening avenue.
Without waiting a second, or being able to give a reason for what I was doing, I went to the main entrance and rang the heavy bell.
An old, grey-headed servant appeared, looking exceedingly solemn, and asked my business.
"I want to see the owner of this place," I said, speaking on the impulse of the moment.
"There is no owner," was the reply.
"How is that?" I asked, abruptly.