Mr. Jarner wiped his eyes. He was deeply affected for the moment, for, knowing the merits of Meg, he wished her to marry a man worthy of her. Such a one Dan appeared to be, for, lord or no lord, he was an honest, noble young fellow, whom any girl might be proud to have at her feet. It was greatly to Mr. Jarner's credit that Dan's rank weighed not one iota in his estimation of the situation.
"Good! good!" said Jarner, gripping Dan's hand; "if it is no fancy, but real, enduring love, I'll help you, my lord. But," he added, springing to his full height, "if you play her false----"
"I shall not play her false," rejoined Dan, seriously. "On my honour, I swear that she shall be my wife."
The vicar would have replied, but at that moment a whistle rang out in the garden. Jarner raised his head and listened. It was repeated.
"Not a word more, Dan," said he, hurriedly; "here is Tinker Tim, I know his whistle--we will talk of this again. Be honest and true, and I shall be your friend."
They had just time to exchange a hearty hand-shake, when Tim's huge bulk appeared at the window. The dogs barked furiously; but, nothing dismayed, the gipsy thrust in his mighty shoulders, and nodded to the gentlemen.
"Evening to both o' ye," said Tim, familiarly. "I looked in at your dell, young man, but the fire was out and you also. Hy! passin, I've got ye the dorg."
"What, another dog?" laughed Dan, as the gipsy hauled a fox-terrier pup out of his pocket. "Why, vicar, you must have a dozen."
"Nay, five only! This makes the sixth," replied Jarner, taking the dog from Tim. "Light the lamp, Dan, and we'll have a look at this one."
Thereafter ensued an argument over the dog, its breed, its price, and its condition, between the vicar and Tim. Dan listened with great amusement, and the buyer and seller went at it hard, the one trying to get the better of the other. At length a satisfactory bargain was concluded, and Tim, before taking his departure, accepted a drink of ale from the hospitable clergyman.