"Well, more's the pity, say I," cried the old man; " but hark ye me , before we part, you shall both of you promise to dine or sup with with us while we stay in London; and we return to Yarmouth next week."
"I wish the gentlemen could make it convenient to come to-night, lovee ," cried his wife. [some narrative omitted]
"Well, we sup at nine, gentleman, and the sooner you come, the better we shall be pleased."

[Letter from Hawkins to Lord Delmont]
My Lord,
Though I am but a sorry hand at inditing, notwithstanding I writes a very plain good hand, which makes me not over fond of doing business by letter, I take the liberty of sending you these lines, with mine, and my wife's, and Sally's humble duty. No tidings can we gain of Polly; but that is neither here nor there. We are in duty bound to thank your Lordship, who might have law for nothing, seeing as how your own father is a lawyer, for sparing me and mine from an expensive suit. God knows , I have reason enough to dread attornies' bills. I paid a swinging one ( more's the pity) no such long time agone . I forgot to ask where t'other young gentleman lived; so hope your Lordship, out of your great goodness, will please to tell him how sorry my wife and self are, and how ready we are to ask his sister's pardon. I suppose his name being Brown, and her's being White, she is not his own sister; but I don't mean to be curious; it don't concern me, as your Lordship knows without my telling you. I also hope Mr. James was satisfied with my promise to send him a barrel of herrings, which I would double rather than go to law: I was always a man of my word in matters of business. But what I chiefly put pen to paper for was, after offering my duty and so forth to your Lordship, to inform you I intend to take my wife and remaining daughter out of this wicked town this very night. I mean no offence in what I says about London; but your Lordship knows I have met with crosses and mishaps enough, since I comed here, to have turned a wiser body's brain; but not to trouble you to read a longer letter, I shall once more in all our names, not forgetting cousin Barrett, humbly entreat you to pardon the past. So no more at present from your Lordship's dutiful humble servants to command,
Joseph Hawkins,

"It's an awsome thing, Mr. Jackson," said the park-keeper to the steward, after they had long plodded their way in silence, "to think what may have happened to my Lord. I'll be sworn there's poachers in this neighbourhood that would do a body a mischief as soon as look at him ; and so to my thinking –"
"They might touch you," said the Steward, "but I'm sure there's not a man hereabouts that would venture to lay a finger on his Lordship. There's not a set of tenants anywhere that have less reason to complain of their Landlord or them that manage for him ( though I say it ) than his Lordship's; and everybody will tell you the same; and if he's not liked, who is to be safe?"
" Oh, I never meant that my Lord wasn't liked, or you either, Mr. Jackson, but folks may do others an ugly turn; and as for poachers, I believe I ought to know something of them; and so to my thinking --?"
"Hark!" interrupted the Steward, as he heard at that moment a distant shout. "It is James, that went with my Lord this morning," said the other.

It was on one bright sunshiny day in the summer of the sixth year from the event abovementioned, that a gentleman, attended by his servant, arrived in a travelling carriage at a small inn in a village situated in the North of England, and inquired his way to the residence of Lord Arlington. The request was followed by a curtsey and a stare from the fat landlady to whom it was addressed, and then a shrill scream to a slatternly girl, who was carrying a pail across the inn-yard; "Bess -- set down that, and rin for Jim to show the gentleman the way to the Hall."
"Is it far to the Hall ?" inquired the gentleman.
"It will, mayhap , be a short three miles, Sir."
"But if our guide is to go on foot," pursued the traveller, impatient to arrive at the end of his journey, "I am afraid he will hardly keep pace with the carriage. Had you not better direct the driver, if you can, which road he is to follow ?"
" You'11 be for walking up to the Hall, I suppose, Sir," replied the woman with another stare.
"No, I shall go in this carriage."
" I beg your pardon , Sir," said the woman, "but you can't go to the Hall in a carriage."
"No?"
"No, Sir; the road is not over and above good , though I won't say you mightn't go it well enough ; but then, Sir, the gates are locked. But I beg pardon ," with another low curtsey, "perhaps, Sir, you have got a key."
"Indeed I have no such thing," said the traveller; "have you no key here for the accommodation of visitors?"
" Laws! Sir, there never comes no visitors here," said the landlady; " we are not allowed to have no key : they've keys at the Hall, and we sent for one aforetime for a gentleman as called , but we couldn't get it. We'll send for one now, if your honour pleases; and if you'll be so good as to walk in and take a little dinner, I dare say you'll get the key in less than a couple of hours,--that is, if they send it at all."
"Thank you, my good woman; but in that case I prefer proceeding immediately on foot; my servant shall remain here with the carriage, and Jem, whom you called for, shall be my guide to the Hall."
"I suppose, Sir," said the landlady, as the traveller was departing, "you know that nobody is never let in to look at the house ; but if you have business with my Lord or Mr. Bennet the steward, that's another matter."

The traveller was obliged to her for the hint, and, conducted by Jem, he proceeded on his pedestrian pilgrimage to what was emphatically called "the Hall." On his way thither he was curious to extract from his conductor some information respecting Lord Arlington, and the light in which he was regarded in that neighbourhood. "Is Lord Arlington popular hereabouts?" he asked.
"Sir?" was the exclamation of the uncomprehending Jem, a short, bandy-legged, ostlerlike looking youth of about twenty.
"I mean," said the traveller, altering his phraseology , " is he liked in this neighbourhood? "
"Oh -- ay -- yes , he's liked very well, for he's a very good gentleman, and spends a sight of money here. There's lots of hands as he employs one way or tother , and nobody hereabouts needs be out of work as wants to have it ; only, you see, it would be better for the inn if he didn't live so quiet like, but had gentlefolks come and see him, just as other gentlefolks do; howsumever , that's partly his own consarn , for the inn is my Lord's, and master says he can't pay him hardly no rent if he don't do nothing for it. "
"People would be sorry, I suppose, if Lord Arlington were to go away from here?"
" Ay , surely. It has been a rare thing for the parish him coming and living down here."
"Is he charitable?" inquired the traveller; " does he give away much money ?"
"He gives some sometimes to them as can't work , but he generally gives work to them as can ."
"Is he often seen?"
"Oh -- ay -- you 'll see him most days riding or walking somewhere abouts, but he don't go much off his own ground -- but then that reaches a long way; why it is all my Lord's as far as you can see, and a mile or two afore you came to the village."
"Does he dislike being met or spoken to?"
"Eh! no -- not at all -- at least by them as live about here . He talks a deal to 'em , and knows them well nigh all, I reckon; there an't a gentleman in the land as is freer and pleasantspokener than my Lord, and he isn't stiff and high a bit, and not as they say lords is elsewhere."
"Do any gentlemen of the neighbourhood ever call upon his Lordship?"
"No, Sir, none as I knows of; but there is no gentleman very nigh ; Squire Grufferton is the nighest , and he is about twelve miles off."
"Then Lord Arlington lives quite alone, doesn't he?"
"No, Sir."
"No! and who lives with him?"
"Oh, there's Master Bennet the steward, and there's the butler, and -- "
"Ah! his establishment, his servants; but is there anybody else?"
"No, Sir, nobody as I knows of ."

" Massa , Lord Sudley is one big devil, one big devil!" Aubrey's mind now required but little proof to establish Caesar's position. "Believe me, massa Aubrey," continued he, "he is one big devil: dat poor, dear young lady never did love him; and the world wicked for take up Lord Sudley's big lie to say so much 'gainst her."

" Me hear every thing from my lord himself," replied Caesar; "but 'top , make me tell you all from first --next Christmas make two, since Lord Sudley begin to meddle long wid Miss Melvil. He try all he can for make her love him widout marry ; but she nebber love him from first , and she tell him so too. Presently he think of new way to win lady's heart : he take away her character; he write love letters to himself from her, and show dem about-- I see him do it, massa Aubrey, and my blood boil ."-- "Precious scoundrel!" exclaimed Aubrey.-- "Ay, ay, thinks my lord ," continued Caesar, "when her reputation is gone, she'll not make such a fuss; she'll be ready to fly to me of herself. He mistake dho , massa ; for, after he succeed to make people talk ill of her, and forsake her, she despise him dhe more. My heart bleed for think on dhis young lady; so handsome, so good, so sweet-tempered."

"Why! to be sure," answered Mr. Prim, who seemed to be the orator of the group, " you speak like a gentleman, Mr. Aubrey ; and you can't wonder that, in these times, men in business should look about them: but, as I said before, a fortnight's no time; so, for my part, seeing you promise so fairly, I will manage to make up my money some other way." --"I have no objections," said Mr Pruin the grocer, "to following Mr. Prim's example; for I knows Mr. Prim to be a prudent man: but I must say that, though I thinks Mr. Aubrey is one of the most well-spoken gentlemen I know , it is going too far to our faces to tell us, that if he should not pay us, he would be the most injured and unhappy person."

"As for that there villain who affronted Fanny," said he, " noabody knows unny thing about 'un , where he went to, or where he come from . That there day was the first time she ever seed 'un in her whole life."

On entering the house I was agreeably surprised to find myself received by the old man with a smile. "Walk in, Mr. Cowper," said he, "walk in; I be quite alone: my dame , with Dick and Susan, be all gone to Thornbury the-day ; but they be back by and by . I be glad to see you, and always shall; for I love a good action to my soul, and I have loved you ever sin' you fought for Fanny Ross. But I thought you was gone, Master Cowper, I thought you was gone. What brings you again into these parts?"-- Glad of so fortunate an opportunity of unburdening my mind, I immediately answered him with a question to the point: " Can't you guess, farmer?"-- " Hum! I don't like to guess," replied Cowsel; "I have too much respect for you to guess the only thing that could lessen it; the only thing that I can think of that would bring you back from London to Melford."