gage. As it is, I shall keep it for Master Faggus,
and add interest for keeping.'

'Oh no, John; oh no, John,' she begged me earnestly, being sobered in
a moment. 'Your hand is so terribly heavy, John; and he never would
forgive you; although he is so good-hearted, he cannot put up with an
insult. Promise me, dear John, that you will not strike him; and I will
promise you faithfully to keep your secret, even from mother, and even
from Cousin Tom himself.'

'And from Lizzie; most of all, from Lizzie,' I answered very eagerly,
knowing too well which of my relations would be hardest with me.

'Of course from little Lizzie,' said Annie, with some contempt; 'a
young thing like her cannot be kept too long, in my opinion, from the
knowledge of such subjects. And besides, I should be very sorry if
Lizzie had the right to know your secrets, as I have, dearest John. Not
a soul shall be the wiser for your having trusted me, John; although
I shall be very wretched when you are late away at night, among those
dreadful people.'

'Well,' I replied, 'it is no use crying over spilt milk Annie. You have
my secret, and I have yours; and I scarcely know which of the two is
likely to have the worst time of it, when it comes to mother's ears. I
could put up with perpetual scolding but not with mother's sad silence.'

'That is exactly how I feel, John.' and as Annie said it she brightened
up, and her soft eyes shone upon me; 'but now I shall be much happier,
dear; because I shall try to help you. No doubt the young lady deserves
it, John. She is not after the farm, I hope?'

'She!' I exclaimed; and that was enough, there was so much scorn in my
voice and face.

'Then, I am sure, I am very glad,' Annie always made the best of things;
'for I do believe that Sally Snowe has taken a fancy to our dairy-place,
and the pattern of our cream-pans; and she asked so much about our
meadows, and the colour of the milk--'

'Then, after all, you were right, dear Annie; it is the ground she dotes
upon.'

'And the things that walk upon it,' she answered me with another kiss;
'Sally has taken a wonderful fancy to our best cow, "Nipple-pins." But
she never shall have her now; what a consolation!'

We entered the house quite gently thus, and found Farmer Nicholas Snowe
asleep, little dreaming how his plans had been overset between us. And
then Annie said to me very slyly, between a smile and a blush,--

'Don't you wish Lorna Doone was here, John, in