“I imagine,” continued the squire, “that this peerless young lady is spreading her net with a good deal of skill and perseverance, in the hope of landing such a very desirable prize.” “Nay, that she is not, I’ll warrant me,” said the doctor. “I have never heard a word of it, but I dare swear that she has never lifted a finger to win him, and that she will never marry him, at any rate until she has received full permission from your own lips. She is made of far finer material than that.” “I’m glad to hear you say so,” replied Squire Fuller. “I wish I could believe it, for that permission she will never get between now and the day of judgment; but I confess that I am very sceptical as to her adoption of any such policy. If my Phil were to be such a double-dyed fool as to ask her, I’ve no doubt she would jump at him like a hen at a gooseberry, and rejoice that she had played her cards so well. A squire’s son is not to be hooked by a blacksmith’s daughter every day.” The plain-spoken doctor was inclined to get angry, as he listened to these reflections on the high-toned character of his young friend and favourite, but commanding his temper, he simply responded,-- “Well, I’m no advocate for young people marrying out of their rank and station, and I’m not sure, even if Lucy returned his affection, that the alliance would end happily, all things considered. At the same time, I say again, and I never spoke more soberly in my life, the youth that marries Lucy Blyth will get a wife that may compete in every way with the noblest lady in the land.” So saying he took his departure, and the hoofs of his high-bred horse were soon heard ringing over the Kesterton road. CHAPTER XVIII. PHILIP FULLER MAKES A DISCOVERY. “Thus far did I come laden with my sin, Nor could aught ease the grief that I was in, Till I came hither. What a place is this! Must here be the beginning of my bliss? Must here the burden fall from off my back? Must here the strings that bound it to me crack? Blest Cross! Blest Sepulchre! Blest rather be The Man that there was put to shame for me.” _John Bunyan._ “Good morning, Adam Olliver. What a man you are for cutting and slashing! I never see you but you are wielding either axe or knife! What a destructive character you must be!” “Good mornin’, Maister Philip,” said the hedger, with a smile of satisfaction, for he had a great regard for the frank young gentleman who had so kindly received his words of pleading by the gate which led to Marlpit Wood. “Ah’s nut nearly as destructive as ah leeaks te be. Ah’ve been choppin’ an’ slashin’ Farmer Houston’s hedges for nearly fifteen years; an’ ah warrant ’at they’ve neean on ’im ivver been sae thrivin’ an’ sae shaply as they are te-day.” “Well, that looks odd,” said Philip. “I should have thought that they would grow bigger and stronger, thicker and higher, if they were left alone.”