But Rachel, with a smile of love and gratification, lifted the little man up in her arms, and kissed him; and his thin, little legs were clasped about her waist, and his arms round her neck, and he kissed her with his wet face, devouringly, blubbering 'the frightle man--you doatie!--the frightle man!' 'Then, Mr. Wylder, I shall have the document prepared again from the draft. You'll see to that, Mr. Buggs, please; and perhaps it will be better that you should look in at the Lodge.' When he mentioned the Lodge, it was in so lofty a way that a stranger would have supposed it something very handsome indeed, and one of the sights of the county. 'Say, about nine o'clock to-morrow morning. Farewell, Mr. Wylder, farewell. I regret the enhanced expense--I regret the delay--I regret the risk--I regret, in fact, the whole scene. Farewell, Mrs. Wylder.' And with a silent bow to Rachel--perfectly polished, perfectly terrible--he withdrew, followed by the sallow clerk, and by that radiant scamp, old Buggs, who made them several obeisances at the door. 'Oh, dear Miss Lake--Rachel, I mean--Rachel, dear, I hope it won't be all off. Oh, you don't know--Heaven only knows--the danger we are in. Oh, Rachel, dear, if this is broken off, I don't know what is to become of us--I don't know.' Dolly spoke quite wildly, with her hands on Rachel's shoulders. It was the first time she had broken down, the first time, at least, the vicar had seen her anything but cheery, and his head sank, and it seemed as if his last light had gone out, and he was quite benighted. 'Do you think,' said he, 'there is much danger of that? Do you really think so?' 'Now, don't blame me,' said Miss Lake, 'and don't be frightened till you have heard me. Let us sit down here--we shan't be interrupted--and just answer your wretched friend, Rachel, two or three questions, and hear what she has to say.' Rachel was flushed and excited, and sat with the little boy still in her arms. So, in reply to her questions, the vicar told her frankly how he stood; and Rachel said--'Well, you must not think of selling your reversion. Oh! think of your little boy--think of Dolly--if _you_ were taken away from her.' 'But,' said Dolly, 'Mr. Larkin heard from Captain Lake that Mark is privately married, and actually has, he says, a large family; and he, you know, has letters from him, and Mr. Larkin thinks, knows more than anyone else about him; and if that were so, none of us would ever inherit the property. So'-- '_Do_ they say that Mark is married? Nothing can be more _false_. I _know_ it is altogether a falsehood. He neither is nor ever will be married. If my brother _dared_ say that in my presence, I would make him confess, before you, that he _knows_ it cannot be. Oh! my poor little Fairy--my poor Dolly--my poor good friend, William! What shall I say? I am in great distraction of mind.' And she hugged and kissed the pale little boy, she herself paler.