g by the priest, walked over to the bed.

"So you've not cheated me, James!" she said. "I made sure to find 'ee
dead when I brought Passon--I thought you'd ha' done it to spite me."

"Dear woman," answered the Squire gently, "it's for my own pleasure I'm
wedding you, and not to make an honest woman of you. I've a fancy to
have the old place carried on by a child who's got a right to my name,
that's all."

"An' our first-born, Arch'laus, can go begging all's days, s'pose? An'
t'other lads and Vassie can go starve wi' en?"

Ruan's face changed, grew darker, and he spoke harshly.

"They were the children of our passion--true love-children. They remind
me of the days when I was a fool, and I'll leave them only my folly. But
the child that's coming--he'll be blessed by the law and the
Church--quite a gentleman of quality, Annie; far above the likes of you.
He'll live to breed hatred and malice in the pack of ye, and every hand
of his own flesh and blood'll be against him.... Parson, do your duty,
and tie the holy knot--small harm in it now nothing can hold me long."

The Parson came forward without a word. He was a clever man, whose
knowledge of souls was deep, if not wide, and he refrained from asking
whether repentance urged this tardy compliance with the law of his
religion; such a question could only have provoked a sneer from the old
cynic in the bed.

Annie groped along the mantelshelf until her fingers met a tallow rush,
which she lit by holding it to the fire, and in the wan flare of yellow
her weary figure showed that she was very near to her confinement. She
turned to the bed and set the candle on the table, meeting the Squire's
quizzical glance with eyes lit only by the tiny reflections of the
candle flame--expressionless eyes, the blue of them faded and the life
dulled. Then she went out of the room, and the stairs creaked beneath
her descending feet; the clamour of her voice came to the two men above
as she called through open doors:

"Katie! Kat-_ie!_ Passon's here, and you'm to fetch Philip and come up
to wance."

More feet sounded on the stairs, clattering hobnails among them, and
Annie returned, accompanied by Katie Cotton, the dairymaid, and her
sweetheart, Philip Jacka. Philip was a lithe, restless youth, with curly
hair that caught the light and bright, glinting eyes. He was far
better-looking than his girl, and far more at his ease; sturdy,
high-bosomed Katie was guilty of an occasional sniff o