"You see this gate is locked to keep out trespassers."
"A pity," said Randal. "I like short cuts, and you have shut up a very short one."
"So the trespassers said," quoth the Squire; "but Stirn would not hear of it;—valuable man, Stirn. But ride round to the lodge. Put up your horse, and you'll join us before we can get to the house."
Randal nodded and smiled, and rode briskly on.
The Squire rejoined his Harry.
"Ah, William," said she anxiously, "though certainly Randal Leslie means well, I always dread his visits."
"So do I, in one sense," quoth the Squire, "for he always carries away a bank-note for Frank."
"I hope he is really Frank's friend," said Mrs Hazeldean.
"Whose else can he be? Not his own, poor fellow, for he will never accept a shilling from me, though his grandmother was as good a Hazeldean as I am. But, zounds! I like his pride, and his economy too. As for Frank—"
"Hush, William!" cried Mrs Hazeldean, and put her fair hand before the Squire's mouth. The Squire was softened, and kissed the fair hand gallantly—perhaps he kissed the lips too; at all events, the worthy pair were walking lovingly arm-in-arm when Randal joined them.