“And have all the parish say I’m not married at all, and be treated like a---- wherever I showed my head. No, thank you, Mr. Gervase Piercey. I don’t think enough of you for that.” “You would think enough of Roger for that,” cried poor Gervase, stung to the heart. “Roger!” she cried, spinning round upon him with a flush on her face. “Roger would have had the banns up long before this, if I had ever said as much to him.” “The banns!” cried Gervase. “Ah, now I know! that’s the clerk!” The stone was thrown at last. “They’ll be up,” he said, waving his hand to her as he looked back, “before you know where you are!” It was all that Patty could do to stop him, to bring him back before he was out of hearing. Dash never rushed more determinedly after his stone. “Mr. Gervase,” she shouted, “Mr. Piercey; sir! Hi! here! Come back, come back! Oh, come back, I tell you!” stamping her foot upon the ground. He returned at last, very like the dog still, humbled, his head fallen, and discomfiture showing in the very attitude of his limp limbs. “Is that not right either?” he said. “The clerk would be up at the Hall sooner than the rector; the rector would understand a little bit, but the clerk not at all. Don’t you see, Mr. Gervase, if it is to be----” “It shall be, Patty.” “It must be in another parish, not here at all; and then you’d have to go to stay there for a fortnight.” “Go to stay there for a fortnight!” Dismay was in the young man’s face. “How could I do that, Patty, with never having any money, and never allowed to sleep a night from home?” “Well, for that matter,” she said, “how are you to marry anybody if things are to go on so?” He made no reply, but looked at her with a miserable countenance, with his under lip dropped, his mouth open, and lack-lustre eyes. And here Patty made a pause, looking at her lover, or rather gazing in the face of fate, and hesitating for one dread, all-important moment: she was not without a tenderness for him, the poor creature who adored her like Dash; but that was neither here nor there. While she looked at him there rose between him and her a vision of a very different face, strong and sure, that would never pause to be told what to do, that would perhaps master her as she mastered him. Ah! but then there was a poor cottage on one side, with a wife whose husband would be little at home, in too much request for her happiness; and on the other there was the Hall and the chance of being my lady. She looked in the face of fate, and seized it boldly, as her manner was. “Stop a bit,” she said; “there’s another way.” “What is it, what is it, Patty?” “But it wants money; it costs a bit of money--a person has to go to London to get it.” “Oh, Patty, Patty, haven’t I told you----”