ou won't make one o'
them hairs o' yourn black or white, Square, not by talkin' all day."
The lawyer settled his wig in a foaming rage. "Come, Mrs. Clamp," said
he, "we shall not remain here to be insulted. Let us go; I shall know
how to protect our property, our authority, and honor, from the
assault of adventurers and meddlers."
"I beg your pardon, Sir," said Mark, "but what was the appellation you
gave to the lady just now? You can call us what you like."
"Mrs. Clamp, Sir," he answered, with a portentous emphasis,--"Mrs.
Clamp,--united to me, Sir, this morning, by the Reverend Mr. Rook, in
the holy bands of matrimony."
They swept out of the house. Mildred sank to her chair as if stunned.
"O God!" she said, "_my_ mother and father!"
"Poor gal!" said Mr. Alford, "small comfort you'll hev in sich
parents. But cheer up; you won't need for friends."
She looked up through her tears at Mark's manly face, full now of
sympathy, and blessed the farmer for his words.
Mr. Alford, taking Mark aside, said, "You know about Lucy's runnin'
away, most likely. Wal, now, ef she could be found, there's no knowin'
what might happen; for it's my opinion she knows about Square
Kinloch's affairs. I thought mebbe you might 'a' seen her in York?"
Mark replied, that he did meet her in Broadway late one afternoon, and
that she looked as if she would speak; but that he hurried on, for the
flaunting style of her dress was not calculated to prepossess the
passers by.
"Good gracious! you don't say so! Seen her yourself? Now do you go
right back to York an' hunt her up--no matter what it costs."
"But my uncle?"
"We'll look arter him."
It was speedily determined, and Mark set out the same day. Meanwhile,
Mildred had promised to go and see Mr. Hardwick and endeavor to make
him cheerful.
"It beats all," said Mr. Alford to his wife. "Now 'f he _should_ find
that unfort'nate gal! Wal, wal, I begin to think the Lord does look
arter things some, even in this world."
We leave Squire Clamp and his new wife to their happiness; it would
not be well to lift the decent veil which drops over their household.
The dark, perchance guilty, past,--the stormy present, and the
retribution of the future,--let memory and conscience deal with them!
CHAPTER XVI.
Never was a little village in greater commotion than Innisfield after
Mark's departure. The succession of events had been such as to engage
the attention of the most indifferent
|