At that moment the hall door opened and Walter entered, followed by the surgeon. Walter told me afterward that he had found Harry Andrews drunk at an alehouse near Biddeford, and that he had rode five miles beyond the town before he found the surgeon. "Hallo, Wat!" cried my Lord, cheerily. "Doctor, you are a day after the fair. You have lost your chance of the title this time, Watty, my boy! Meg here and your lady mother have choused you out of it fairly, between them!" "Thank God!" said Walter, fervently. "Good! That's well said," returned my Lord. "And what is more, I believe you mean it, both you and Margaret! And that is more than I would say of some folks." "I mean it, I know, and I am sure I can answer for Margaret!" said Walter. "Aye, you are mighty ready to answer for Margaret," said my Lord. "You and Margaret have been a pair of sly-boots, I believe. However, all is well, and I am sure you will never find a better wife or a fairer, if you look the west country over, so here's God speed you with, all my heart!" And he gave Walter a mighty shake of the hand and a slap on the shoulder, which might have staggered a giant. "However, I have promised to break the news to Bess, and I must keep my word." He went up-stairs, and I followed, for I wanted to see how the child would take it. As my Lord opened the door, I saw that Betty was kneeling in the bed, with her hands clasped. She looked up with an eager glance, and a burning blush, when she saw her father. "That's right, Bess, my girl!" said her father, coming to the bed, and taking her in his arms. "Thank God for giving you a pair of fine little brothers to take care of you!" She clung round his neck. "Oh, papa, has my little brother come?" "Aye, that has he, and brought another with him!" answered my Lord, cheerfully: "And what is better, dear mamma is doing well." Betty seemed quite overwhelmed, and laid her head down on her father's shoulder. Presently she raised it again, and looked anxiously in his face. "You wont wish I was dead 'now,' will you, papa?" said she. "Indeed, I will try to be very good!" "Wish you dead! No, child, of course not!" said my Lord, quite shocked. "How could you think of such a thing as that?" "You said so that day in the church-yard, papa!" said Betty. "You know I could not help being crooked, and, indeed, I will try to learn all I can, so that I can help mamma and teach my little brothers!" she added, with wistful pathos. "Bless the child!" said my Lord, kissing her with real tenderness, and hugging her in his arms. "I never thought of such a thing! Why, Bess, you must not lay up every word I say as if it were gospel. What will you do when you are married, and have a husband of your own, if you make so much of every rough speech?" "I never will be married!" said Betty, with decision. "I mean to live single all my life, as Margaret does!" "But suppose Margaret gets married—then what will you do?" asked my Lord.