"Ah!" said Pickles, "now ye're comin' to the p'int o' bein' sensible, young 'oman. I thought at first you could only drop hangelic speeches, an' that you 'ailed from the hangel spheres; but now I see ye're a gel--oh, quite the very purtiest I hiver laid heyes on. Now, as I've spoke my true mind, I'll hanswer yer questions in a discreet an' pious manner. My name is Pickles--Pickles, at yer sarvice."

"I never heered such a name in all my life," said Connie.

"Wery like not. I were christened by the proper name o' James; but no James as ever walked 'ud hold me--it didn't fit no w'y; an' Pickles did.

So Pickles I am, an' Pickles I'll be to the end o' the chapter. Now, as to wot I wants--w'y; I wants a talk with that mealy-faced chap wot looks as if I'd heat him up alive."

"No, I don't," said Giles. "I were only thinking as you 'ad the wery reddest 'air I iver see'd in my life."

"Personal remarks air considered ill-mannered, young man. And let me tell yer as my hair's my special glory. But now to business. You can't know, I guess, wot I wants yer for."

"No, I can't," said Giles.

"That's rum; and I to tike the trouble not only to wisit yer own most respectable mansion, but to foller yer 'ere in the true sperrit of kindness."

"Ye're wery good; but I can't guess wot ye're up to," answered Giles.

"Dear, dear! the silliness o' folks! Now, w'en a stranger seeks yer hout, isn't it safe to s'pose as he brings news?"

"Wull, yes."

"Next clue--shall I 'elp yer a bit? You 'asn't, so to speak, lost something lately--thimble, or a pair of scissors, or something o' that sort?"

"Oh, it's Sue! It's my darling Sue;" exclaimed Giles, a light breaking all over his face. "'As yer brought news of Sue, boy?"

"Be Sue a thimble, scissors, or a gel?"

"Oh! a gel, in course--my own dear, dear, only sister."

"A little, fat, podgy kind o' woman-gel, wid a fine crop o' freckles and sandy hair?"

"Yes, yes; that's she. I have bin waiting fur her hall night. Where is she? Please, please, Pickles, where is she?"

"Well, can't yer guess? Where 'ud she be likely ter be? She worn't a wandering sort o' gel, as neglected her home duties, wor she?"

"Oh no! she never stayed out in hall her life afore."

"She worn't, so to speak, a gel as wor given to pilfer, and might be tuk to cool herself in the lock-up."

"Never--never! Sue 'ud sooner die than take wot worn't her own; and I wish I wor strong enough to punch yer head fur thinkin' sech a thing,"

said Giles, his face now crimson with indignation.

"Well, softly, softly, young un; I didn't say as she _did_ pilfer. I think that 'ere podgy gel as honest as the day. But now, can't yer guess where she his?"

"Oh yes! I can guess wery well," answered Giles, his face softening down. "I guessed long ago--didn't I, Connie?"

"Well, now, wot hever did yer guess?" asked Pickles, in some amazement.

"Oh! there wor but one thing to guess. There were one dream as Sue and I were halways dreaming, and she have gone off widout me at last, to see wot it wor like. She'll be back hany moment, arter she have seen and found hout hall she could. Sue have gone to the country, Pickles."

"Oh, my heyes! to the country!" exclaimed Pickles. His face grew crimson, and he was obliged to leave his seat and walk to the window, where he remained with his back to the others for nearly a minute, and where he indulged in some smothered mirth.

When he turned round, however, he was as grave as a judge.

"You _are_ clever," he said to Giles.

"I'm right, ain't I?" asked Giles.

"In course; you're always as right as a trivet."

"Oh, I'm so glad! And does she find it wery beautiful?"

"Scrumptious! fairy-like! scrumptious!"

"Oh, how happy I am! And when 'ull she be back?"

"Well, that's the part as may moderate your raptures; she can't exactly tell when. She sent me to tell yer as she don't exactly know. It may be to-morrow; or, agen, it mayn't be fur a week, or even more. She's hever so sorry, and she sends yer a whole pocketful o' love, but she can't tell when she'll get back."

"But what is she stayin fur?"

"Oh! my heyes! wot is she staying fur? You wants ter live in a cottage in the country, don't yer?"

"Why, yes, that's hour dream."

"Well, ha'n't she to find hout wot the price o' them are? Ha'n't she, stoo-pid?"

"I s'pose so. Is that what she's staying fur?"

Pickles nodded.

"You don't never tell no lies, do you, boy?"

"I! Wot do yer take me fur? You can b'lieve me or not as yer pleases."

"Oh! I do b'lieve yer. Will yer take a message back to Sue?"

"Why, in course."

"Tell her to have two rooms in the cottage, and plenty o' flowers hall round, and a big winder where I can look hout at the stars when I can't sleep o' nights."

"Yes, I'll tell her faithful. Hanythink else?"

"Tell her as I love to think as she's in the country, but to come back as fast as she can; and give--give her my wery best love. And you wouldn't like to give her a kiss fur me?"

"Oh! my heye! yere's a rum go. Fancy me a-kissing Cind--I means Sue. No, young un, I hasn't the wery least hobjection in life. I'll give her two resounding smacks the wery minute as I sees her. Lor'! it will be fine fun. Now, good-bye. I'll come and see yer soon agen.--Good-bye, my beauty. I only wishes as it wor _you_ I wor axed ter kiss.--Good-bye, Giles. I'll remember wot yer said 'bout that 'ere cottage."

"Be sure as the winders is big enough fur me to see the stars," called out Giles after him.