The orphans were shocked and astonished when they heard, from Isabella and Caroline, the charge that was made against them. They looked at one another in silence for some moments. Then Peggy exclaimed—“Sure! Mr. Hopkins has forgotten himself strangely. Does not he remember Edmund’s counting the things to him upon the great table in his hall, and we all standing by! I remember it as well as if it was this instant.” “And so do I,” cried Anne. “And don’t you recollect, Mary, your picking out the gold ones, and telling Mr. Hopkins that they were gold; and he said you knew nothing of the matter; and I was going to tell him that Miss Isabella had tried them, and knew that they were gold? but just then there came in some tenants to pay their rent, and he pushed us out, and twitched from my hand the piece of gold which I had taken up to show him the bright spot which Miss Isabella had cleaned by the stuff that she had poured on it? I believe he was afraid I should steal it; he twitched it from my hand in such a hurry. Do, Edmund; do, Mary—let us go to him, and put him in mind of all this.” “I’ll go to him no more,” said Edmund, sturdily. “He is a bad man—I’ll never go to him again. Mary, don’t be cast down—we have no need to be cast down—we are honest.” “True,” said Mary; “but is not it a hard case that we, who have lived, as my mother did all her life before us, in peace and honesty with all the world, should now have our good name taken from us, when—” Mary’s voice faltered and stopped. “It can’t be taken from us,” cried Edmund, “poor orphans though we are, and he a rich gentleman, as he calls himself. Let him say and do what he will, he can’t hurt our good name.” Edmund was mistaken, alas! and Mary had but too much reason for her fears. The affair was a great deal talked of; and the agent spared no pains to have the story told his own way. The orphans, conscious of their own innocence, took no pains about the matter; and the consequence was, that all who knew them well had no doubt of their honesty; but many, who knew nothing of them, concluded that the agent must be in the right and the children in the wrong. The buzz of scandal went on for some time without reaching their ears, because they lived very retiredly. But one day, when Mary went to sell some stockings of Peggy’s knitting at the neighbouring fair, the man to whom she sold them bid her write her name on the back of a note, and exclaimed, on seeing it—“Ho! ho! mistress; I’d not have had any dealings with you, had I known your name sooner. Where’s the gold that you found at Rossmore Castle?”