y yet marry an honest man who knows nothing of the
matter."

"And repent too?" asked Agnes.

Not the insufferable ignorance of young Henry, when he first came to
England, was more vexatious or provoking to the dean than the rustic
simplicity of poor Agnes's uncultured replies. He at last, in an
offended and determined manner, told her--"That if she would resign the
child, and keep the father's name a secret, not only the child should be
taken care of, but she herself might, perhaps, receive some favours; but
if she persisted in her imprudent folly, she must expect no consideration
on her own account; nor should she be allowed, for the maintenance of the
boy, a sixpence beyond the stated sum for a poor man's unlawful
offspring." Agnes, resolving not to be separated from her infant, bowed
resignation to this last decree; and, terrified at the loud words and
angry looks of the dean, after being regularly discharged, stole to her
home, where the smiles of her infant, and the caresses she lavished on
it, repaid her for the sorrows she had just suffered for its sake.

Let it here be observed that the dean, on suffering Agnes to depart
without putting in force the law against her as he had threatened, did
nothing, as it were, _behind the curtain_. He openly and candidly owned,
on his return to Mr. Rymer, his clerk, and the two constables who were
attending, "that an affair of some little gallantry, in which he was
extremely sorry to say his son was rather too nearly involved, required,
in consideration of his recent marriage, and an excellent young woman's
(his bride's) happiness, that what had occurred should not be publicly
talked of; therefore he had thought proper only to reprimand the hussy,
and send her about her business."

The curate assured the dean, "that upon this, and upon all other
occasions, which should, would, or _could_ occur, he owed to his
judgment, as his superior, implicit obedience."

The clerk and the two constables most properly said, "his honour was a
gentleman, and of course must know better how to act than they."

CHAPTER XXXII.

The pleasure of a mother which Agnes experienced did not make her
insensible to the sorrow of a daughter.

Her parents had received the stranger child, along with a fabricated tale
she told "of its appertaining to another," without the smallest
suspicion; but, by the secret diligence of the curate, and the nimble
tongues of his elder daughters, the report