"I beg your pardon, my lady. The fly went off with some passengers who alighted from the last up-train; it's not back yet."
"Will it be long, do you know?"
"Well—I—— James," he called to the porter, "where did the fly go to?"
"Over to Dimsdale," replied the man.
"Then it won't be back for half an hour yet, my lady," said the station-master to Lady Level.
"Oh, I can't wait all that time," she returned, rather impatiently. "I will walk. Will you be good enough to send my bag after me?"
"I'll send it directly, my lady."
She was stepping from the little platform when a thought struck her, and she turned to ask a question of the station-master. "Is it safe to cross the fields now? I remember it was said not to be so when I was here last."
"On account of Farmer Piggot's bull," replied he. "The fields are quite safe now, my lady; the bull has been taken away."
Lady Level passed in at the little gate, which stood a few yards down the road, and was the entrance to the field-way which led to Marshdale House. It was a warm evening, calm and sunny; not a leaf stirred; all nature seemed at rest.