s, and pay down
the money, or he may be clapped into the debtors' prison.'
'Oh! sir, anything would be better than that. I have got a month's
delay, and I have some hope of the Squire's relenting.'
'I have none,' said Mr Lambert. 'You ask my advice, and I give it. Let
your grandfather employ some trustworthy auctioneer to value stock, to
the amount of the debt, then employ him to effect a sale, and the matter
is settled. A debt like that is a chain round a man's neck, and he had
better live on a loaf a day than go down to his grave burdened by the
thought of making a legacy of it to his descendants.'
Bryda could only murmur her thanks. She was wondering if Mr Lambert
knew the whole story of her father's disgrace, and she shrank from
alluding to it. Presently Mrs Lambert came in with some papers in her
hand.
'Look here!' she said, 'I picked up this rubbish in the backyard. It is
some of that mad apprentice's stuff. _That_ is how he wastes his time,
and robs you of what he is bound to give you. The sooner you are rid of
him the better,' and Mrs Lambert held out some fragments of parchment to
her son, covered with black hieroglyphics and stained with charcoal.
'I think the fellow is in league with the devil,' Mrs Lambert said.
'What can all this mean?'
'Give the papers to me, mother; I will show them to Barrett and Catcott.
They look like trumpery not worth a thought.'
'Now, miss,' Madam Lambert said sharply, 'I am ready to go to church.
You must accompany me and carry my books; make haste.'
When Bryda had left the room Mr Lambert said,--
'A pretty girl this new maid of yours, mother. Look sharp after her or
you will have the fellows at her heels.'
'She is as quiet as a mouse,' was the reply. 'A bit too quiet, but she
is none the worse for that; and I will say she makes the best pastry I
ever tasted.'
'Well, have a care,' Mr Lambert said. 'Henderson says that his bright
nephew Jack is one of her beaux, and I daresay there will be a dozen
more before long.'
A few minutes later Bryda was sedately walking by Mrs Lambert's side,
carrying her large prayer book and Bible, while Mrs Lambert had a
gold-headed cane in one of her hands, on which she leaned as it tapped
on the pavement, and in the other a black silk reticule, which contained
her handkerchief, a fan, and a scent-bottle of somewhat gigantic
proportions.
She wore her best Sunday black paduasoy, and a hood over the frills of
her lace cap, wh
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