Heiress of Haddon

by W. E. Doubleday

The lover groaned at the thought, and interrupted the maiden by so doing.

"Well, then," she continued, "either will I give thee a letter, or, if that cannot be, thou must go to Bakewell Church to-morrow eve, and thou shalt find the letter squeezed behind the font. But there, I must away; the day will pass all too quickly for me, for I have much to do."

"Stay," he exclaimed, and plucking a sprig of holly from the bush which grew beside the door, he placed it in the maiden's hand.

"Give her this," he said, "and tell her it came from me. Bid her keep a stout heart within her; she must smile to-night."

Lettice took the little bunch of green and red, and making a reverential curtsey to her lady's lover, she hastened away towards the Hall; and, as Manners watched her retreating figure, he saw the form of a man step out from among the bushes and join her company. It was her lover, who had waited with an anxious heart to discover the effect of the promised mediation.

True to his promise, Manners presented himself at the appointed time at the door of the orchestra, though not without inward misgivings as to the character of the reception in store for him. He need, however, have had no apprehension on that score, for everything had been conveniently arranged. The leader of the musicians (they were principally hired Derby men) had been bribed, and when the esquire presented himself for admittance he was warmly greeted.

"Well, Ralph!" exclaimed that worthy as he almost wrung Manners' hands off in the heartiness of his embrace; "thou hast come to thy old friend again, eh? We must cement the friendship this time with a tankard of Haddon-brewed ale, and if thou hast not greatly altered since I knew thee last, thou'lt not be averse to that."

"Of course not," replied Manners, readily; "and these are all fresh men? I cannot see one of the old faces among them all."

"They are good fellows, though," returned their leader, proudly, "and they play right well. Ha! here comes a messenger."

The musicians, most of whom had until now been idly leaning over the balcony, gazing, with an interest of which they were not fully aware, at the servants below as they were putting the finishing strokes to the preparation of the feast, immediately took their allotted places, and Manners found himself at the end of the row within the shadow of the wall, and separated from the rest by the intervening body of the leader.