en
the means of putting enmity between two families of rank; or rather of
alienating one of them from the confidence and good-will of the other.
Go."

She then courtesied to each, shedding, at the same time, what seemed to
be bitter tears of remorse--and took her departure, each of them looking
after her, and then at the other, with surprise and wonder.

"Now, Mr. Folliard," said Sir Robert solemnly, "I have one question to
ask you, and it is this: could I possibly, or by any earthly natural
means, have been apprised of the honor of your visit to me this day? I
ask you in a serious--yes, and in a solemn spirit; because the happiness
of my future life depends on your reply."

"Why, no," replied the credulous squire, "hang it, no, man--no, Sir
Robert; I'll do you that justice; I never mentioned my intention of
coming to call you out, to any individual but one, and that on my way
hither; he was unwell, too, after a hard night's drinking; but he said
he would shake himself up, and be ready to attend me as soon as the
place of meeting should be settled on. In point of fact, I did not
intend to see you to-day, but to send him with the message; but, as I
said, he was knocked up for a time, and you know my natural impatience.
No, certainly not, it was in every sense impossible that you could have
expected me: yes, if the devil was in it, I will do you that justice."

"Well, I have another question to ask, my dear friend, equally important
with, if not more so than, the other. Do you hold me free from all blame
in what has happened through the imposture of that wretched girl?"

"Why, after what has occurred just now, I certainly must, Sir Robert. As
you laid no anticipation of my visit, you certainly could not, nor had
you time to get up a scene."

"Well, now, Mr. Folliard, you have taken a load off my heart; and I will
candidly confess to you that I have had my frailties like other men,
sown my wild oats like other men; but, unlike those who are not ashamed
to boast of such exploits, I did not think it necessary to trumpet my
own feelings. I do not say, my dear friend, that I have always been a
saint."

"Why, now, that's manly and candid, Sir Robert, and I like you the
better for it. Yes, I do exonerate you from blame in this. There
certainly was sincerity in that wench's tears, and be hanged to her;
for, as you properly said, she was devilish near putting between our
families, and knocking up our intimacy. It is a deli