bably driven her from under his roof, had he not received the
programme of his conduct from Whitecraft. That cowardly caitiff had a
double motive in this. He found that if her father should "pepper
her with persecution," as the old fellow said, before marriage, its
consequences might fall upon his own unlucky head afterwards--in other
words, that Helen would most assuredly make him then suffer, to some
purpose, for all that his pretensions to her hand had occasioned her
to undergo previous to their union; for, in truth, if there was one
doctrine which Whitecraft detested more than another--and with good
reason too--it was that of Retribution.

"Mr. Folliard," said Whitecraft in the very last conversation they had
on this subject, "you must not persecute your daughter on my account."

"Mustn't I? Why hang it, Sir Robert, isn't persecution the order of the
day? If she doesn't marry you quietly and willingly, we'll turn her out,
and hunt her like a priest."

"No, Mr. Folliard, violence will never do. On the contrary, you must
change your hand, and try an opposite course. If you wish to rivet her
affections upon that Jesuitical traitor still more strongly, persecute
her; for there is nothing in this life that strengthens love so much as
opposition and violence. The fair ones begin to look upon themselves
as martyrs, and in proportion as you are severe and inexorable, so in
proportion are they resolved to win the crown that is before them. I
would not press your daughter but that I believe love to be a thing
that exists before marriage--never after. There's the honeymoon, for
instance. Did ever mortal man or mortal woman hear or dream of a second
honeymoon? No, sir, for Cupid, like a large blue-bottle, falls into, and
is drowned, in the honey-pot."

"Confound me," replied the squire, "if I understand a word you say.
However, I dare say it may be very good sense for all that, for you
always had a long noddle. Go on."

"My advice to you then, sir, is this-make as few allusions to her
marriage with me as possible; but, in the meantime, you may praise me
a little, if you wish; but, above all things, don't run down Reilly
immediately after paying either my mind or person any compliment. Allow
the young lady to remain quiet for a time. Treat her with your usual
kindness and affection; for it is possible, after all, that she may do
more from her tenderness and affection for you than we could expect from
any other motive; at al