poaching with a gun. But
keener eyes than those of any poacher were upon her, and the lightest of
light steps approached.

"Oh, Robin, are you come, then, at last?" cried Mary.

"Three days I have been lurking, in the hope of this. Heart of my heart,
are you glad to see me?"

"I should think that I was. It is worth a world of crying. Oh, where
have you been this long, long time?"

"Let me have you in my arms, if it is but for a moment. You are not
afraid of me?--you are not ashamed to love me?"

"I love you all the better for your many dreadful troubles. Not a word
do I believe of all the wicked people say of you. Don't be afraid of me.
You may kiss me, Robin."

"You are such a beautiful spick and span! And I am only fit to go into
the pond. Oh, Mary, what a shame of me to take advantage of you!"

"Well, I think that it is time for you to leave off now. Though you must
not suppose that I think twice about my things. When I look at you, it
makes me long to give you my best cloak and a tidy hat. Oh, where is all
your finery gone, poor Robin?"

"Endeavor not to be insolent, on the strength of your fine clothes.
Remember that I have abandoned free trade; and the price of every
article will rise at once."

Mary Anerley not only smiled, but laughed, with the pleasure of a great
relief. She had always scorned the idea that her lover had even made a
shot at Carroway, often though the brave lieutenant had done the like to
him; and now she felt sure that he could clear himself; or how could
he be so light-hearted? "You see that I am scarcely fit to lead off a
country-dance with you," said Robin, still holding both her hands, and
watching the beauty of her clear bright eyes, which might gather big
tears at any moment, as the deep blue sky is a sign of sudden rain; "and
it will be a very long time, my darling, before you see me in gay togs
again."

"I like you a great deal better so. You always look brave--but you look
so honest now!"

"That is a most substantial saying, and worthy of the race of Anerley.
How I wish that your father would like me, Mary! I suppose it is
hopeless to wish for that?"

"No, not at all--if you could keep on looking shabby. My dear father
has a most generous mind. If he only could be brought to see how you are
ill-treated--"

"Alas! I shall have no chance of letting him see that. Before to-morrow
morning I must say good-by to England. My last chance of seeing you
was now this evening. I