and so did
you, that the maid who then attended her, and to whom I was told she was
attached with such unusual affection, might have availed herself of her
position, and either attempted to seduce her from her faith, or connive
at private meetings with Reilly."

"Sir Robert, I know your plausibility--and, upon my soul, I pay it a
high compliment when I say it is equal to your cowardice."

"Mr. Folliard, I can bear all this with patience, especially from
you--What's this?" he exclaimed, addressing the footman, who rushed into
the room in a state of considerable excitement.

"Why, Sir Robert, there is a young woman below, who is crying and
lamenting, and saying she must see Mr. Folliard."

"Damnation, sir," exclaimed Sir Robert, "what is this? why am I
interrupted in such a manner? I cannot have a gentleman ten minutes in
my study, engaged upon private and important business, but in bolts some
of you, to interrupt and disturb us. What does the girl want with me?"

"It is not you she wants, sir," replied the footman, "but his honor, Mr.
Folliard."

"Well, tell her to wait until he is disengaged."

"No," replied Mr. Folliard, "send her up at once; what the devil can
this be? but you shall witness it."

The baronet smiled knowingly. "Well," said he, "Mr. Folliard, upon my
honor, I thought you had sown your wild oats many a year ago; and, by
the way, according to all accounts--hem--but no matter; this, to be
sure, will be rather a late crop."

"No, sir, I sowed my wild oats in the right season, when I was hot,
young, and impetuous; but long before your age, sir, that field had been
allowed to lie barren."

He had scarcely concluded when Miss Herbert, acting upon a plan of
her own, which, were not the baronet a man of the most imperturbable
coolness, might have staggered, if not altogether confounded him,
entered the room.

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, with a flood of tears, kneeling before Mr.
Folliard, "can you forgive and pardon me?"

"It is not against you, foolish girl, that my resentment is or shall be
directed, but against the man who employed you--and there he sits."

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, again turning to that worthy gentleman, who
seemed filled with astonishment.

"In God's name!" said he, interrupting his accomplice, "what can this
mean? Who are you, my good girl?"

"My name's Catherine Wilson, sir."

"Catherine Wilson!" exclaimed the squire--"why, confound your brazen
face, are you not the per