"Yes, dear, yes; I do believe in you," came with a sob, "in spite of all; and I have tried, and will try so hard, Rob, to make myself a lady worthy of you. I'd do anything sooner than you should be ashamed of me. But, Rob, dear--father--" "Hang father!" "Don't trifle, dear. You can't imagine what I have suffered, and what he suffers. All those two long weary months since we left the lodge it has been dreadful. He keeps on advertising and trying, but no one will engage him. It is as if some one always whispered to gentlemen that he was once a poacher, and it makes him mad." "Well, I couldn't help my mother turning him off." "Couldn't help it, dear! Oh, Rob!" "There you go again. Now, come, be sensible. I must get back soon." "To her!" cried Judith, wildly. "Nonsense. Don't be silly. She's like a cold fish to me. It will all come right." "Yes, if you will come and speak to my father." "Can't." "Rob, dear," cried Judith in a sharp whisper; "you must, or it will be father's ruin. He has begun to utter threats." "Threats? He'd better not." "It's in his despair, dear. He says it's your fault if he, in spite of his trying to be honest, is driven back to poaching." "He'd better take to it! Bah! Let him threaten. He knows better. Nice prospect for me to marry a poacher's daughter." "Oh, Rob, how can you be so cruel. You don't know." "Know what? Does he threaten anything else?" "Yes," came with a suppressed sob. "What?" "I dare not tell you. Yes, I must. I came on purpose to-night. Just when I felt that I would stay by him and not break his heart by doing what he does not want." "Talk sense, silly. People's hearts don't break. Only horses', if you ride them too hard." Judith uttered a low sob. "Well, what does he say?" "That you are the cause of all his trouble, and that you shall make amends, or--" "Or what?" "I dare not tell you," sobbed the girl, passionately. "But, Rob, you will have pity on him--on me, dear, and make him happy again." "Look here," said Rolph, roughly. "Ben Hayle had better mind what he is about. Men have been sent out of the country for less than that, or-- well, something of the kind. I'm not the man to be bullied by my mother's keeper, so let's have no more of that. Now, that's enough for one meeting. You wrote to Aldershot for me to meet you, and the letter was sent to me at Brackley, of course. So I came expecting to find you pretty and loving, instead of which your head's full of cock-and-bull nonsense, and you're either finding fault or telling me about your father's bullying. Let him bully. I shall keep my promise to you when I find it convenient. Nice tramp for me to come at this time of night." "It's a long walk from Lindham here in the dark, Rob, dear," said the girl.