"Eh! Well, I don't know how that may be," he replied, "but you must understand that all this time the Llewellyn Evanses, and the Evanses of Nant, and the others would be over at Court once or twice a week, so that all the neighborhood called them Robert Evans' body-birds; and when they were there Peggy McNeill would be having an ill time, since even the old man would be hard to her; and more so as he grew older. But, however, there was a better time coming, or so it seemed at first, the beginning of which was through Peter Rees' lobster pots. He was a great friend of hers. She would go out with him to take up his pots--oh! it might be two or three times a week. So it happened one day, when they had pushed off from the beach, and Peggy was steering, that old Rees stopped rowing on a sudden. "'Why don't you go on, Peter?' said Peggy. "'Bide a bit,' said old Rees. "'What have you forgotten?' said she, looking about in the bottom of the boat. For she knew what he used very well. "'Nought,' said he. But all the same he began to put the boat about in a stupid fashion, afraid of offending her, and yet loath to lose a shilling. And so, when Peggy looked up, what should she see but a gentleman--whom Rees had perceived, you will understand--stepping into the boat, and Peter Rees not daring to look her in the face because he knew well that she would never go out with strangers. "Of course the young gentleman thought no harm, but said gayly, 'Thank you! I am just in time.' And what should he do, but go aft and sit down on the seat by her, and begin to talk to Rees about the weather and the pots. And presently he said to her, 'I suppose you are used to steering, my girl?' "'Yes,' said Peggy, but very grave and quiet-like, so that if he had not determined that she was old Rees' daughter he would have taken notice of it. But she was wearing a short frock that she used for the fishing, and was wet with getting into the boat, moreover. "'Will you please to hold my hat a minute,' he said, and with that he put it in her lap while he looked for a piece of string with which to fasten it to his button. Well, she said nothing, but her cheeks were scarlet, and by and by, when he had called her 'my girl' two or three times more--not roughly, but just off-hand, taking her for a fisher-girl--Peter Rees could stand it no longer, shilling or no shilling. "'You mustn't speak that fashion to her, master,' he said gruffly. "'What?' said the gentleman, looking up. He was surprised, and no wonder, at the tone of the man. "'You mustn't speak like that to Miss McNeill, Court,' repeated old Rees more roughly than before. 'You are to understand she is not a common girl, but like yourself.' "The young gentleman turned and looked at her just once, short and sharp, and I am told that his face was as red as hers when their eyes met. 'I beg Miss McNeill's pardon--humbly,' he said, taking off his hat grandly, yet as if he meant it too; 'I was under a great misapprehension.'