“’T is in keeping that he should be a dancing master or a card-sharper,” asserted Mr. Meredith. “No wonder ’t is a disordered land when ’t is used as a catchall for every man not wanted in England. We’ll soon put a finish to his night-walking.”
“I don’t think he’s a villain, dadda, and he certainly meant kindly in warning us.”
“To make favour by tale-bearing, no doubt.”
“I’m sure he’d not a thought of it,” declared Janice, with an unconscious eagerness which made the squire knit his brows.
“Ye speak warmly, child,” he said. “I trust your mother be not justified in her suspicion.”
The girl, who meanwhile had sprung off the bed, drew herself up proudly. “Mommy is altogether wrong,” she replied. “I’d never descend so low.”
“I said as much,” responded the squire, gleefully.
“A likely idea, indeed!” exclaimed Janice. “As if I’d have aught to do with a groom! No, I never could shame the family by that.”
“Wilt give me your word to that, Jan?” asked the squire.
“Yes,” cried the girl, and then roguishly added, “Why, dadda, I’d as soon, yes, sooner, marry old Belza, who at least is a prince in his own country, than see a Byllynge marry a bond-servant.”