“I don't choose to have persons of that sort in the parish,” said he with icy distinctness. “But, my dear Richard, you can't turn him out,” reasoned Letty, rather vexed by an exhibition of her brother's pride before her school-friend beyond what she had calculated upon. “He has a right to stop at the _Lisgard Arms_ as long as he pleases.” “And _I_ have a right to turn Steve out as a tenant”---- “You have nothing of the kind, Richard,” interposed Walter quietly; “you have no more right than I--not even legal right, for the inn is not yet yours, and as for moral right, it would be the most monstrous piece of territorial oppression ever heard of out of Poland. So long as the man behaves himself”---- “He does _not_ behave himself,” put in Sir Richard angrily. “He is a drunkard, and a brawler in church.” “Gracious mercy! how you must have been looking up Burn's _Justice_. But you will not be a magistrate, a _custos rotulorum_, till you are of age, remember, so that he is safe for six months. In the meantime, he certainly means to stay here. He is so good as to say he likes Mirk, I understand; and the village folks like _him_. He is a great addition to the choir; and I shall certainly ask him, in case he remains, to join our Mirk volunteers: Steve tells me he is a most admirable shot with a rifle, and will do the corps credit.” “That is all the worse,” quoth Sir Richard violently; “he is only the more likely to be a poacher. We have more than enough of that sort already, and I beg that you will give none such your encouragement.” “Encouragement!” returned Walter airily. “What patronage have _I_ to offer? I am not Sir Richard, who can make a man happy with a word.” “Very well,” continued the baronet with suppressed passion, “let him take care how he trespasses upon the Abbey-lands--that's all.” “Nay, you'll see him at the Abbey itself,” laughed Walter carelessly, “and that pretty often, unless I quite misinterpreted Mistress Forest's manner when she parted from him at the Lych Gate: I never saw two people more affectionate upon so short an acquaintance.” “A most ineligible suitor, I am sure,” broke forth the baronet. “I trust Mary is not fool enough to disgrace herself at her time of life by any such alliance.” “She is almost old enough to choose for herself,” responded Walter drily. “The selection of a husband for one's servant is scarcely the privilege of even a lord of the manor, and when the servant is not one's own”---- “I believe, sir,” interrupted Sir Richard hastily, “that I am only speaking the sentiments of her mistress, in whose hands, of course, the matter lies.--Mother, do you not agree with me that it would be very unwise to encourage any attachment between Mary Forest and this reprobate stranger, Derrick?”