She laid her hand upon the desk before her, but Mary checked her with a determined “No, my Lady; no. I was never greedy--with all my faults, you will grant that much, I know--and if I had been like Mrs Welsh, and others of this household I could name--but that I never was a mischief-maker--I might long since have put myself beyond all need of legacies, and you never would have missed it. But Mr Derrick is himself a person of property; a very rich man indeed for one in my condition of life--not that I need be a burden upon any man, thank Heaven, for I have money saved out of my wages--and very handsome they always were--and that great present of good Sir Robert's still untouched: the most generous of gentlemen he was. I am sure, my Lady, nobody felt for you as I did when Sir Robert died; and you have often said how terrible it was to lose a husband; therefore”--here for a moment her excessive volubility flagged for the first time; she paused, and reddened, then added, with the air of a mathematician stating an indisputable corollary--“therefore, you must allow, dear mistress, that to _find_ one--particularly when one comes to my time of life--is not unpleasant, nor a chance to be lightly thrown aside.” “That depends entirely upon the sort of husband he may be, Mary,” observed my Lady gravely. “Really, dear madam, with all respect, I think I am the best judge of that,” rejoined the waiting-maid tartly; “although, indeed, I never thought to say such words to you. Sir Richard may have his likes and dislikes, but I am not his slave; nor yet his servant, for the matter of that. While Master Walter, who, saving your presence, everybody knows to be worth a hundred of him, likes Ralph very much.” A pang shot across my Lady's face, and left it crimson, as though she had received a blow; but the waiting-maid little knew what had brought the colour there, although she felt that she had pained her mistress deeply. “God forgive me,” cried she penitently, “if my foolish tongue has hurt your feelings, my Lady! I did not mean to say aught against Sir Richard, I am sure. I scarcely knew what I said, for when those are dear to us--as Ralph has grown to be with me, and I don't deny it--are misjudged and wronged, why, then, we are apt to say bitter things. This talk was none of my seeking, my Lady; and although Ralph thinks that you are to blame because of his being forbidden the Hall, and all the rest of it, I have always told him you have never said a word to set me against him; and oh, I am sorry you are doing it now, because what is done cannot be undone, and”---- “Great Heaven! you are not married to this man?” cried my Lady, rising from her seat with agitation. “O no, my Lady--certainly not, my Lady,” rejoined the waiting-maid with a certain demure dignity. “There has been nothing underhand between us in the matter at all, except, that is, so far as meeting Mr Derrick at the back gate”----