tered a little cry; and, as if taking it for an invitation, Tregenna hopped right in and came up to her.
"Sir," said she, "what business have you with me?"
But she was not angry; she crossed her hands, one of which held a rolling-pin, demurely in front of her, and looked down in a stately fashion, not at all disturbed at being discovered in the act of making a pudding, for those were domestic days.
"Much the same business, Miss Joan, that the brigadier has with your father," said Tregenna. "There is no pretense, as you know, betwixt you and me. We are foes avowed. I ask you no questions about your visit to the farm this morning, because I know what took you thither. Neither will you need to ask why I am going again to Rede Hall, to inquire into this mystery concerning the Gray Barn."
"You are going again?" said Joan, with interest, in which he thought he detected fear also.
"Yes. And I make no secret of saying I am not going to be fooled by the innocent appearance of the place. I am going again and again,
