e stitches again by torchlight. She fooled us in this way
for three years, and we never found her out, but as time wore on,
and she was now in her fourth year, one of her maids, who knew what
she was doing, told us, and we caught her in the act of undoing her
work, so she had to finish it, whether she would or no....' I tell
you, we never heard of such a woman; we know all about Tyro,
Alcmena, Mycene, and the famous women of old, but they were nothing
to your mother--any one of them."--And yet she was only undoing her
own work!--she was not forcing a grown man to undo his!' said the
Squire, with a sudden rush of voice and speech.

Elizabeth looked up astonished.

'Am I to put that down?'

The Squire threw away the book he was holding. His shining white
hair seemed positively to bristle on his head, his long legs twined
and untwined themselves.

'Don't pretend, please, that you don't know what part you've been
playing in this affair!' he said with sarcasm. 'It took Forest and
me three good hours this morning to take down as fine a barricade as
ever I saw put up. I'm stiff with it still. British liberties have
been thrown to the dogs--[Greek: gynaikos houneka]--all because of a
woman! And there you sit, as though nothing had happened! Yet I
chanced to see you just now, coming back with Pamela!'

Elizabeth's flush this time dyed her all crimson. She sat, pen in
hand, staring at her employer.

'I don't understand what you mean, Mr. Mannering.' At which her
conscience whispered to her sharply, 'You guessed it already--in the
park!'

The Squire jumped to his feet, and came to stand excitedly in front
of her, his hands thrust into the high pockets of his waistcoat.

'I am _extremely_ sorry!' he said, with that _grand seigneur_
politeness he could put on when he chose--'but I am not able to
credit that statement. You make it honestly, of course, but that a
person of your intelligence, when you saw those gates, failed to put
two and two together, well!'--the Squire shook his head, and
shrugged his shoulders, became, in fact, one protesting gesture--'if
you ask me to believe it,' he continued, witheringly, 'I suppose I
must, but--'

'Mr. Mannering!' said Elizabeth earnestly, 'it would really be kind
of you to explain.'

Her blush had died away. She had fallen back in her chair, and was
meeting his attack with the steady, candid look that betrayed her
character. She was now entirely self-possessed--neither nervous no