“She does not deserve a farthing,” exclaimed Santley. “Still, if you wish it——”
“Yes, yes! I—I am sorry for her.”
Santley opened the purse, and took out a sovereign.
“If I give you this, will you promise to go out of the parish?”
“Maybe.”
“And to conduct yourself properly—to turn over a new leaf?”
Sal grinned viciously from ear to ear.
“I take example by you, master, and your young lady there! Leastways, if I do go a-larking I’ll be like you gentry, and say naught about it. There, gi’ me the guinea! Stop, though, make it two, and I’ll go away out o’ Omberley this very night.”
Santley and Edith rapidly exchanged a look, and a second piece of gold was at once added to the first. Then, after giving Sal a few words of solemn warning, in his priestly character, Santley walked away with Edith. The pariah girl watched them until they disappeared; then, with a low laugh, she rejoined her companion, a one-eyed and middle-aged gipsy, who, during the preceding scene, had phlegmatically stretched himself on his back, along the roadside.