plans to do. I have seen too much to be astonished any
more. But to think that a child of mine, my one and only daughter, who
looks as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, should be hand in glove
with the wickedest smuggler of the age, the rogue everybody shoots
at--but can not hit him, because he was born to be hanged---the by-name,
the by-word, the by-blow, Robin Lyth!" Mrs. Anerley covered her face
with both hands.

"How would you like your own second cousin," said Mary, plucking up her
spirit, "your own second cousin, Mistress Cockscroft, to hear you speak
so of the man that supports them at the risk of his life, every hour of
it? He may be doing wrong--it is not for me to say--but he does it very
well, and he does it nobly. And what did you show me in your drawer,
dear mother? And what did you wear when that very cruel man, Captain
Carroway, came here to dine on Sunday?"

"You wicked, undutiful child! Go away! I wish to have nothing more to
say to you."

"No, I will not go away," cried Mary, with her resolute spirit in her
eyes and brow; "when false and cruel charges are brought against me, I
have the right to speak, and I will use it. I am not hand in glove with
Robin Lyth, or any other Robin. I think a little more of myself than
that. If I have done any wrong, I will meet it, and be sorry, and submit
to any punishment. I ought to have told you before, perhaps; that is the
worst you can say of it. But I never attached much importance to it; and
when a man is hunted so, was I to join his enemies? I have only seen him
twice: the first time by purest accident, and the second time to give
him back a piece of his own property. And I took my brother with me; but
he ran away, as usual."

"Of course, of course. Every one to blame but you, miss. However, we
shall see what your father has to say. You have very nearly taken all
my breath away; but I shall expect the whole sky to tumble in upon us
if Captain Anerley approves of Robin Lyth as a sweetheart for his
daughter."

"I never thought of Captain Lyth; and Captain Lyth never thought of me.
But I can tell you one thing, mother--if you wanted to make me think of
him, you could not do it better than by speaking so unjustly."

"After that perhaps you will go back to your flowers. I have heard that
they grow very fine ones in Holland. Perhaps you have got some smuggled
tulips, my dear."

Mary did not condescend to answer, but said to herself, as she went to
work aga