t all understand your own
predicament, and must just leave your matters in the hands of those who
do. I dare say you have never even heard tell of the drove-roads or the
drovers; and I am certainly not going to sit up all night to explain it
to you. Suffice it, that it is me who is arranging this affair--the more
shame to me!--and that is the way ye have to go. Ronald," she continued,
"away up-by to the shepherds; rowst them out of their beds, and make it
perfectly distinct that Sim is not to leave till he has seen _me_."

Ronald was nothing loth to escape from his aunt's neighbourhood, and
left the room and the cottage with a silent expedition that was more
like flight than mere obedience. Meanwhile the old lady turned to her
niece.

"And I would like to know what we are to do with him the night!" she
cried.

"Ronald and I meant to put him in the hen-house," said the encrimsoned
Flora.

"And I can tell you he is to go to no such a place," replied the aunt.
"Hen-house indeed! If a guest he is to be, he shall sleep in no mortal
hen-house. Your room is the most fit, I think, if he will consent to
occupy it on so great a suddenty. And as for you, Flora, you shall sleep
with me."

I could not help admiring the prudence and tact of this old dowager, and
of course it was not for me to make objections. Ere I well knew how, I
was alone with a flat candlestick, which is not the most sympathetic of
companions, and stood studying the snuff in a frame of mind between
triumph and chagrin. All had gone well with my flight; the masterful
lady who had arrogated to herself the arrangement of the details gave me
every confidence; and I saw myself already arriving at my uncle's door.
But, alas! it was another story with my love-affair. I had seen and
spoken with her alone; I had ventured boldly; I had been not ill
received; I had seen her change colour, had enjoyed the undissembled
kindness of her eyes; and now, in a moment, down comes upon the scene
that apocalyptic figure with the nightcap and the horse-pistol, and with
the very wind of her coming behold me separated from my love! Gratitude
and admiration contended in my breast with the extreme of natural
rancour. My appearance in her house at past midnight had an air (I could
not disguise it from myself) that was insolent and underhand, and could
not but minister to the worst suspicions. And the old lady had taken it
well. Her generosity was no more to be called in question than