“Yes. Be sharp then.”
“Pray break that off then at once at Brackley, and come to father and ask him to let us be married directly.”
“No hurry.”
“No hurry?—If you knew what I’m suffering.”
“There, there; don’t worry, little one. It’s all right, I tell you. Do you think I’m such a brute as to throw you over? See how I chucked Madge for your sake.”
“Yes, dear, yes; I do believe in you,” came with a sob, “in spite of all; and I have tried, and will try so hard, Rob, to make myself a lady worthy of you. I’d do anything sooner than you should be ashamed of me. But, Rob, dear—father—”
“Hang father!”
“Don’t trifle, dear. You can’t imagine what I have suffered, and what he suffers. All those two long weary months since we left the lodge it has been dreadful. He keeps on advertising and trying, but no one will engage him. It is as if some one always whispered to gentlemen that he was once a poacher, and it makes him mad.”
“Well, I couldn’t help my mother turning him off.”
“Couldn’t help it, dear! Oh, Rob!”