Now, seeing her distress, Adam all sturdy loyalty that he was, must needs sigh in sympathy, and fell, once more, to twisting his hat until he had fairly wrung it out of all semblance to its kind, twisting and screwing it between his strong hands as though he would fain wring out of it some solution to the problem that so perplexed his mistress.  Then, all at once, the frown vanished from his brow, his grip loosened upon his unfortunate hat, and his eye brightened with a sudden gleam.

“Miss Anthea,” said he, drawing a step nearer, and lowering his voice mysteriously, “supposing as I was to tell you that ’e did want that furnitur’,—­ah! an’ wanted it bad?”

“Now how can he, Adam?  It isn’t as though he lived in England,” said Anthea, shaking her head, “his home is thousands of miles away,—­he is an American, and besides—­”

“Ah!—­but then—­even a American—­may get married.  Miss Anthea, mam!” said Adam.

“Married!” she repeated, glancing up very quickly, “Adam—­what do you mean?”

“Why you must know,” began Adam, wringing at his hat again, “ever since the day I found him asleep in your hay, Miss Anthea, mam, Mr. Belloo has been very kind, and—­friendly like.  Mr. Belloo an’ me ’ave smoked a good many sociable pipes together, an’ when men smoke together, Miss Anthea, they likewise talk together.”

“Yes?—­Well?” said Anthea, rather breathlessly, and taking up a pencil that happened to be lying near to hand.

“And Mr. Belloo,” continued Adam, heavily, “Mr. Belloo has done me—­the—­the honour,” here Adam paused to give an extra twist to his hat,—­“the—­honour, Miss Anthea—­”

“Yes, Adam.”

“Of confiding to me ’is ’opes—­” said Adam slowly, finding it much harder to frame his well-meaning falsehood than he had supposed, “his—­H-O-P-E-S—­’opes, Miss Anthea, of settling down very soon, an’ of marryin’ a fine young lady as ’e ’as ’ad ’is eye on a goodish time,—­’aving knowed her from childhood’s hour, Miss Anthea, and as lives up to Lonnon—­”

“Yes—­Adam!”

“Consequently—­’e bought all your furnitur’ to set up ‘ousekeepin’, don’t ye see.”

“Yes,—­I see, Adam!” Her voice was low, soft and gentle as ever, but the pencil was tracing meaningless scrawls in her shaking fingers.

“So you don’t ‘ave to be no-wise back-ard about keepin’ the money, Miss Anthea.”

“Oh no,—­no, of course not, I—­I understand, it was—­just a—­business transaction.”

“Ah!—­that’s it,—­a business transaction!” nodded Adam, “So you’ll put the money a one side to help pay off the mortgage, eh, Miss Anthea?”

“Yes.”

“If the ’ops comes up to what they promise to come up to,—­you’ll be able to get rid of Old Grimes—­for good an’ all, Miss Anthea.”

“Yes, Adam.”

“An’ you be quite easy in your mind, now, Miss Anthea—­about keepin’ the money?”

“Quite!—­Thank you, Adam—­for—­telling me.  You can go now.”