squire, who would have found it bad enough to answer my lady’s questions, even without two eager girls for audience.

“Pray, Mr. Lathom,” began my lady, something abruptly for her,—but she was very full of her subject,—“what is this I hear about Job Gregson?”

Mr. Lathom looked annoyed and vexed, but dared not show it in his words.

“I gave out a warrant against him, my lady, for theft,—that is all.  You are doubtless aware of his character; a man who sets nets and springes in long cover, and fishes wherever he takes a fancy.  It is but a short step from poaching to thieving.”

“That is quite true,” replied Lady Ludlow (who had a horror of poaching for this very reason): “but I imagine you do not send a man to gaol on account of his bad character.”

“Rogues and vagabonds,” said Mr. Lathom.  “A man may be sent to prison for being a vagabond; for no specific act, but for his general mode of life.”

He had the better of her ladyship for one moment; but then she answered—

“But in this case, the charge on which you committed him is for theft; now his wife tells me he can prove he was some miles distant from Holmwood, where the robbery took place, all that afternoon; she says you had the evidence before you.”

Mr. Lathom here interrupted my lady, by saying, in a somewhat sulky manner—“No such evidence was brought before me when I gave the warrant.  I am not answerable for the other magistrates’ decision, when they had more evidence before them.  It was they who committed him to gaol.  I am not responsible for that.”

My lady did not often show signs of impatience; but we knew she was feeling irritated, by the little perpetual tapping of her high-heeled shoe against the bottom of the carriage.  About the same time we, sitting backwards, caught a glimpse of Mr. Gray through the open door, standing in the shadow of the hall.  Doubtless Lady Ludlow’s arrival had interrupted a conversation between Mr. Lathom and Mr. Gray.  The latter must have heard every word of what she was saying; but of this she was not aware, and caught at Mr. Lathom’s disclaimer of responsibility with pretty much the same argument which she had heard (through our repetition) that Mr. Gray had used not two hours before.

“And do you mean to say, Mr. Lathom, that you don’t consider yourself responsible for all injustice or wrong-doing that you might have prevented, and have not?  Nay, in this case the first germ of injustice was your own mistake.  I wish you had been with me a little while ago, and seen the misery in that poor fellow’s cottage.”  She spoke lower, and Mr. Gray drew near, in a sort of involuntary manner; as if to hear all she was saying.  We saw him, and doubtless Mr. Lathom heard his footstep, and knew who it was that was listening behind him, and approving of every word that was said.  He grew yet more sullen in manner; but still my lady was my lady, and he dared not speak out before her, as he would have done to Mr. Gray.  Lady Ludlow, however, caught the look of stubborness in his face, and it roused her as I had never seen her roused.

“I am sure you will not refuse, sir, to accept my bail.  I offer to bail the fellow out, and to be responsible for his appearance at the sessions.  What say you to that, Mr. Lathom?”

“The offence of theft is not bailable, my lady.”

“Not in ordinary cases, I dare say.  But I imagine this is an extraordinary case.  The man is sent to prison out of compliment to you, and against all evidence, as far as I can learn.  He will have to rot in gaol for two months, and his wife and children to starve.  I, Lady Ludlow, offer to bail him out, and pledge myself for his appearance at next quarter-sessions.”

“It is against the law, my lady.”

“Bah! Bah! Bah!  Who makes laws?  Such as I, in the House of Lords—such as you, in the House of Commons.  We, who make the laws in St. Stephen’s, may break the mere forms of them, when we have right on our sides, on our own land, and amongst our own people.”

“The lord-lieutenant may take away my commission, if he heard of it.”

“And a very good thing for the county, Harry Lathom; and for you too, if he did,—if you don’t go on more wisely than you have begun.  A pretty set you and your brother magistrates are to administer justice through the land!  I always said a good despotism was the best form of government; and I am twice as much in favour of it now I see what a quorum is!  My dears!” suddenly turning round to us, “if it would not tire you to walk home, I would beg Mr. Lathom to take a seat in my coach, and we would drive to Henley Gaol, and have the poor man out at once.”

“A walk over the fields at this time of day is hardly fitting for young ladies to take alone,” said Mr. Lathom, anxious no doubt to escape from his tête-à-tête drive with my lady, and possibly not quite prepared to go to the illegal length of prompt measures, which she had in contemplation.

But Mr. Gray now stepped forward, too anxious for the release of the prisoner to allow any obstacle to intervene which he could do away with.  To see Lady Ludlow’s face when she first perceived whom she had had for auditor and spectator of her interview with Mr. Lathom, was as good as a play.  She had been doing and saying the very things she had been so much annoyed at Mr. Gray’s saying and proposing only an hour or two ago.  She had been setting down Mr. Lathom pretty smartly, in the presence of the very man to whom she had spoken of that gentleman as so sensible, and of such a standing in the county, that it was presumption to question his doings.  But before Mr. Gray had finished his offer of escorting us back to Hanbury Court, my lady had recovered herself.  There was neither surprise nor displeasure in her manner, as she answered—“I thank you, Mr. Gray.  I was not aware that you were here, but I think I can understand on what errand you came.  And seeing you here, recalls me to a duty I owe Mr. Lathom.  Mr. Lathom, I have spoken to you pretty plainly,—forgetting, until I saw Mr. Gray, that only this very afternoon I differed from him on this very question; taking completely, at that time, the same view of the whole subject which you have done; thinking that the county would be well rid of such a man as Job Gregson, whether he had committed this theft or not.  Mr. Gray and I did not part quite friends,” she continued, bowing towards him; “but it so happened that I saw Job Gregson’s wife and home,—I felt that Mr. Gray had been right and I had been wrong, so, with the famous inconsistency of my sex, I came hither to scold you,” smiling towards Mr. Lathom, who looked half-sulky yet, and did not relax a bit of his gravity at her smile, “for holding the same opinions that I had done an hour before.  Mr. Gray,” (again bowing towards him) “these young ladies will be very much obliged to you for your escort, and so shall I.  Mr. Lathom, may I beg of you to accompany me to Henley?”

Mr. Gray bowed very low, and went very red; Mr. Lathom said something which we none of us heard, but which was, I think, some remonstrance against the course he was, as it were, compelled to take.  Lady Ludlow, however, took no notice of his murmur, but sat in an attitude of polite expectancy; and as we turned off on our walk, I saw Mr. Lathom getting into the coach with the air of a whipped hound.  I must say, considering my lady’s feeling, I did not envy him his ride—though, I believe, he was quite in the right as to the object of the ride being illegal.

Our walk home was very dull.  We had no fears; and would far rather have been without the awkward, blushing young man, into which Mr. Gray had sunk.  At every stile he hesitated,—sometimes he half got over it, thinking that he could assist us better in that way; then he would turn back unwilling to go before ladies.  He had no ease of manner, as my lady once said of him, though on any occasion of duty,