"Well, you see, my dear, it behoves me as a justice of the peace to be well informed of his Majesty's views respecting the heinous sin of witchcraft, and to know how I should comport myself and deal with so foul a creature in case, at any future time--" "Mother Goodhugh should be brought before you?" "Yes, exactly," said the baronet. "My dear Anne, I'd give almost everything I possess for your clear discerning head." "Never mind my head, father," she said, with a half-laugh; "I want to speak to you about more important things." "Yes, my dear, certainly. But won't you sit down? You worry me when you tower over me so, and threaten, and preach at me. Do sit down, child, pray." "Nay, father, you can hear what I have to say without my seating myself." "Yes, my dear," said Sir Thomas, humbly. "Let Mother Goodhugh be, father." "But, my child, she is a most pestiferous witch." "For the present, father. For the present, let her be." "Well, my dear, if you wish it, of course--" "I do wish it, father." "How odd, my dear, that you should come to say that, when I was studying up the matter." "I did not come to say that, father," said Anne; "but to speak to you about our guest." "Yes, my dear, he has been here now six weeks since that disaster." "Seven weeks, father." "Well, my child, seven weeks if you like; and he has sent back those soldier fellows and his own attendants, and seems to have settled himself down. I mean to tell him that he had better--" "Stay here till his health is quite recovered, father." "Nay, indeed, my child, after his grossly neglectful behaviour to us, I feel ready at any time to send him away." "But you will do no such thing, father. Sir Mark is your guest, and an important officer of his Majesty." "An' if he had not been I should very soon--" "Your good treatment of so important a gentleman may mean something in the future. It is always well, father, to have friends at Court." "Yes, yes, my child, but to leave us in so scurvy a way, and take up his abode with old Cobbe." "That has nothing to do with the matter, father. Ask him to stay." "But, Anne, my child." "Father, I insist upon your forcing him to stay." "Force," said Sir Thomas; "ah, there'll be no need of that. The job will be to force him to go. But surely, child, thou'lt never think of setting thy cap at him after his engagement with the founder's child?" "I? Set my cap! Oh, father," she cried, with a weak giggle, "that is too good. I absolutely hate him." "Then I'll tell him we wish him--" "To stay as long as he can, father. Go at once." "But, my dear, he is going to-morrow. He told me so when he was on his way to the moat to fish, and I told him I was glad to hear it." "You told him that, father?" cried Anne, with flashing eyes. "Indeed I did," said Sir Thomas. "Then go at once," cried Anne, imperiously, "and bid him stay." "But it will be like eating my words, my child."