in front of the house, and gave a rat-tat on the door, while my pulse beat as loud inside of me as ever did the knocker without. The sound ran round the building, and backwards among the walks, and all was silent as before. I waited a minute, and was for knocking again, thinking there might be no one in the house, and then heard a light footstep coming along the corridor, yet durst not look through the window to see who it was in passing, as I might have done, but kept myself close to the door.
The bolts were being drawn, and a girl's voice asked, "Who is there?" I gave a jump to hear that voice, knowing it well for Grace's, and had a mind to shout out my name. But then I remembered there might be some in the house with her besides, and that I must remain disguised. Moreover, laughing is so mixed with crying in our world, and trifling things with serious, that even in this pass I believe I was secretly pleased to have to play a trick on her, and test whether she would find me out in this new dress or not. So I spoke out in our round Dorset speech, such as they talk it in the vale, saying, "A poor boy who is out of his way."
Then she opened one leaf of the door, and asked me whither I would go, looking at me as one might at a stranger and not knowing who it was.
I answered that I was a farm lad who had walked from Purbeck, and sought an inn called the Why Not, kept by one Master Block. When she heard that, she gave a little start, and looked me over again, yet could make nothing of it, but said,—
"Good lad, if you will step on to this terrace I can
