sorry to hear that you are
an attendant upon this amiable lady. Remain where you are, and don't
attempt to intrude yourself as an ear-witness to any communication Miss
Folliard may have to make to me."

The profligate creature and unprincipled spy bridled, looked disdain and
bitterness at the amiable clergyman, who, accompanied by our heroine,
retired to the vestry. It is unnecessary to detail their conversation,
which was sustained by the _Cooleen Bawn_ with bitter tears. It is
enough to say that the good and pious minister, though not aware until
then that Miss Herbert had, by the scoundrel baronet, been intruded into
Squire Folliard's family, was yet acquainted, from peculiar sources,
with the nature of the immoral relation in which she stood to that
hypocrite. He felt shocked beyond belief, and assured the weeping girl
that he would call the next day and disclose the treacherous design
to her father, who, he said, could not possibly have been aware of
the wretch's character when he admitted her into his family. They then
parted, and our heroine was obliged to take this vile creature into the
carriage with her home. On their return, Miss Herbert began to display
at once the malignity of her disposition, and the volubility of her
tongue, in a fierce attack upon, what she termed, the ungentlemanly
conduct of Mr. Brown. To all she said, however, Helen uttered not one
syllable of reply. She neither looked at her nor noticed her, but sat in
profound silence, not, however, without a distracted mind and breaking
heart.

On the next day the squire took a fancy to look at the state of his
garden, and, having got his hat and cane, he sallied out to observe
how matters were going on, now that Mr. Malcomson had got an assistant,
whom, by the way, he had not yet seen.

"Now, Malcomson," said he, "as you have found an assistant, I hope you
will soon bring my garden into decent trim. What kind of a chap is he,
and how did you come by him?"

"Saul, your honor," replied Malcomson, "he's a divilish clever chiel,
and vara weel acquent wi' our noble profession."

"Confound yourself and your noble profession! I think every Scotch
gardener of you believes himself a gentleman, simply because he can nail
a few stripes of old blanket against a wall. How did you come by this
fellow, I say?"

"Ou, just through Lanigan, the cook, your honor."

"Did Lanigan know him?"

"Hout, no, your honor--it was an act o' charity like."

"Ay, ay,