about it.

_Mrs Bar._ Lucy appears to take it very much to heart, poor thing!

_Old Bar._ She does, dame, but in the right way. She thinks of others,
and not of herself. I tell you this, dame, if I thought that Lucy was
not my daughter, it would almost break my heart.

_Mrs Bar._ She's a good girl, and content with her father and mother. I
only wish that Peter was the same.

_Old Bar._ Peter was born a fool, dame, and he'll never be anything
else. But I hope this may prove of service to him. I hear that he has
already been up to the Hall.

_Mrs Bar._ Had we not better go there, too, Bargrove, and see Sir
Gilbert, or they may suppose we be parties to the report.

_Old Bar._ Why should they, and who knows the report as yet?

_Mrs Bar._ O, everybody! I was told of it ten minutes back by Mrs
Benson. She heard it of the footman, William. He says, that Captain
Etheridge has given Peter a sound thrashing.

_Old Bar._ Did he? Then I am very much indebted to him. I'll tell you
what, dame, I'll to the wood and find out this gipsy woman; and if
threatening her with the stocks and Bridewell won't make her confess, I
have a warrant in my pocket, just made out by the magistrates' clerk,
for the apprehension of the gang, on suspicion of their stealing Mrs
Fowler's turkey, and Farmer Groves' geese. We'll first see what can be
done there; and then I'll come back, and we'll walk up to the Hall.

_Mrs Bar._ Do so, Bargrove; let us show that we've a clear conscience,
at all events.

_Old Bar._ I'll be back in an hour, dame; I must go down to Wilson, the
constable. [_Exit old Bar._

_Mrs Bar._ I never was so put out in my life. That boy Peter's folly
worries me to death. Who comes here? why, it's Captain Etheridge, I do
declare. I am almost afraid to see one of the family now.

_Enter Captain Etheridge._

_Capt. Eth._ My dear Mrs Bargrove, with your permission. (_Kissing
her._) I can't leave off my old habit of kissing my nurse. How are you,
and your husband, and how is pretty Lucy?

_Mrs Bar._ Quite well, thank you, Mr Edward. Dear me, what a man you do
grow!

_Capt. Eth._ If I am not a man at five-and-twenty, dame, I never shall
be.

_Mrs Bar._ Five-and-twenty! dear heart! so it is--but time does fly
fast! It appears to me but the other day that I had you in my arms. How
does Miss Agnes to-day?

_Capt. Eth._ Not very well, dame, she has something to vex her. Indeed,
there's a rumour flying about, and I've come down t