"Ta, ta! Hey! Have you met her?"
"Two or three days ago."
"She is a fine girl, sir. As honest and simple as can be. I am a hardened old bachelor, Dan, but my heart aches for the future of that poor creature."
"Her father----"
"Pooh, pooh! Tush! Don't talk to me, sir. He is worse than useless. The girl would have been ruined body and soul had she trusted to his fatherly care. I can say, without praising myself and Miss Linisfarne, that we have done our best for her. She is a noble creature, sir," continued the parson, vehemently, "and should be the mother of brave men and chaste women. But there, there! in this waste corner of the earth who is there to mate with her?"
He sighed and finished his beer, then continued his speech after such pause.
"I have often thought of asking Miss Linisfarne to take the lass to London and aid her to----"
"No, no!" interrupted Dan, smartly, "do not let her go to town. A season would spoil her. It would destroy her charm of simplicity and candour. Believe me, my dear Mr. Jarner, it is best to let this woodland flower bloom here, and not to thrust it into the hothouse of an artificial civilization."
"You take a great interest in the young lady, sir," said Jarner, dryly.
"Do you think so, sir? It is pure philanthropy on my part, I assure you."