too, I thought a little about myself. I liked to fancy that,
even though she would have to go from me to the squire, my little plan
may yet turn out, and it would be I, not he, who had arranged for the
future happiness of my little darling. I shouldn't have told you all
this, ma'am; but you would have it."

"I am glad you brought her to me, Sergeant Wilks, anyhow," Mrs. Walsham
said, "for I love her dearly, and she has been a great pleasure to me;
but what you are talking about is simply nonsense. My son is a good
boy, and will, I hope, grow up an honourable gentleman like his father;
but he cannot look so high as the granddaughter of Squire Linthorne."

"More unequal marriages have been made than that, ma'am," the sergeant
said sturdily; "but we won't say more about it. I have thought it over
and over, many a hundred times, as I wheeled my box across the hills,
and it don't seem to me impossible. I will agree that the squire would
never say yes; but the squire may be in his grave years before Aggie
comes to think about marriage. Besides, it is more than likely that he
will have nothing to say to my pet. If his pride made him cast his son
off, rather than acknowledge my daughter as his, it will keep him from
acknowledging her daughter as his grandchild. I hope it will, with all
my heart; I hope so."

"In that case, Sergeant Wilks," Mrs. Walsham said, "let this be her
home for the time. Before you told me your story, I had made up my mind
to ask you to let her remain with me. You need feel under no
obligation, for the money you have paid me is amply sufficient to pay
for the expenses of what she eats for years. It will be a real pleasure
for me to keep her, for she has become a part of the house, and we
should miss her sorely, indeed. She is quick and intelligent, and I
will teach her all I know, and can train her up to take a situation as
a governess in a gentleman's family, or perhaps--" and she laughed,
"your little romance might come true some day, and she can in that case
stop in this home until James makes her another."

"You are very kind, ma'am," the sergeant said. "Truly kind indeed; and
I humbly accept your offer, except that so long as I live she shall be
no expense to you. I earn more than enough for my wants, and can, at
any rate, do something towards preventing her from being altogether a
burden on your hands. And now, ma'am, how would you recommend me to go
to work with the vindictive old man up at the