"'Pon my honour, no! Make haste! Oh, if papa knew of this!"
Scarcely had the words been uttered, when the heavy tramp and gruff voice of O'Grady resounded in the passage, and the boys scampered off in a fright, leaving the door locked.
"Oh, what will become of me!" said the poor girl, with the extremity of terror in her look—a terror so excessive, that she was quite heedless of the dishabille of Furlong, who jumped from the curtains, when he heard O'Grady coming.
"Don't be fwightened, Miss O'Gwady," said Furlong, half frightened to death himself. "When we explain the affair——"
"Explain!" said the girl, gasping. "Oh, you don't know papa!"
As she spoke, the heavy tramp ceased at the door—a sharp tap succeeded, and Furlong's name was called in the gruff voice of the Squire.
Furlong could scarcely articulate a response.
"Let me in," said O'Grady.
"I am not dwessed, sir," answered Furlong.
"No matter," said the Squire; "you're not a woman."