“It was, once; until idleness suffered it to drop through.”
“Why should I make it particularly conspicuous?” she continued.
There was no reply, and she looked quickly up. A peculiar expression, one which she did not understand, sat upon his face.
“If we had a mind to cheat the world, Maria, we might do so, by paying a visit to that house.”
“In what way?”
“I might take you in Maria Hastings, and bring you out Mrs. George Godolphin.”
“What do you mean?” she inquired, completely puzzled.
Mr. George laughed. “The man who lives there, Sandy Bray, has made more couples one than a rustic parson. Some people call him a public nuisance; others say he is a convenience, as it is three miles to the nearest kirk. He goes by the nickname of Minister Bray. Many a lad and lassie have stolen in there, under cover of the twilight, and in five minutes have come forth again, married, the world being none the wiser.”
“Is it the place they call Gretna Green?” inquired Maria in much astonishment.
“No, it is not Gretna Green. Only a place of the same description, and equally serviceable.”