"I fear you are little short of it," he replied; "at all events, you have succeeded in knocking up my marriage with Miss Folliard. How did it happen that they found you out?"

She then detailed to him the circ.u.mstances exactly as the reader is acquainted with them.

He paused for some time, and then said, "There is some mystery at the bottom of this which I must fathom. Have you any reason to know how the family became acquainted with your history?"

"No, sir; not in the least."

"Do you think Miss Folliard meets any person privately?"

"Not, sir, while I was with her."

"Did she ever attempt to go out by herself?"

"Not, sir, while I was with her."

"Very well, then, I'll tell you what you must do; her father is above with me now, in a perfect hurricane of indignation. Now you must say that the girl Herbert, whom I recommended to the squire, was a friend of yours; that she gave you the letter of recommendation which I gave her to Mr. Folliard; that having married her sweetheart and left the country with him, you were tempted to present yourself in her stead, and to a.s.sume her name. I will call you up by and by; but what name will you take?"

"My mother's name, sir, was Wilson."

"Very good; what was her Christian name?"

"Catherine, sir."

"And you must say that I know nothing whatsoever of the imposture you were guilty of. I shall make it worth your while; and if you don't get well through with it, and enable me to bamboozle the old fellow, I have done with you. I shall send for you by and by."

He then rejoined the squire, who was walking impatiently about the room.

"Mr. Folliard," said he, "I have to apologize to you for this seeming neglect; I had most important business to transact, and I merely went downstairs to tell the gentleman that I could not possibly attend to it now, and to request him to come in a couple of hours hence; pray excuse me, for no business could be so important as that in which I am now engaged with you.'"

"Yes, but in the name of an outraged father, I demand again to know whether you will give me satisfaction or not?"

"I have already answered you, my dear sir, and if you will reflect upon the reasons I have given you, I am certain you will admit that I have the laws both of G.o.d and man on my side, and I feel it my duty to regulate my conduct by both. As to the charge you bring against me, about the girl Herbert, I am both ignorant and innocent of it."

"Why, sir, how can you say so? how have you the face to say so?--did you not give her a letter of recommendation to me, pledging yourself for her moral character and fidelity?"

"I grant it, but still I pledge you my honor that I looked upon her as an extremely proper person to be about your daughter; you know, sir, that you as well as I have had--and have still--apprehensions as to Reilly's conduct and influence over her; and I did fear, and so did you, that the maid who then attended her, and to whom I was told she was attached with such unusual affection, might have availed herself of her position, and either attempted to seduce her from her faith, or connive at private meetings with Reilly."

"Sir Robert, I know your plausibility--and, upon my soul, I pay it a high compliment when I say it is equal to your cowardice."

"Mr. Folliard, I can bear all this with patience, especially from you--What's this?" he exclaimed, addressing the footman, who rushed into the room in a state of considerable excitement.

"Why, Sir Robert, there is a young woman below, who is crying and lamenting, and saying she must see Mr. Folliard."

"d.a.m.nation, sir," exclaimed Sir Robert, "what is this? why am I interrupted in such a manner? I cannot have a gentleman ten minutes in my study, engaged upon private and important business, but in bolts some of you, to interrupt and disturb us. What does the girl want with me?"

"It is not you she wants, sir," replied the footman, "but his honor, Mr.

Folliard."

"Well, tell her to wait until he is disengaged."

"No," replied Mr. Folliard, "send her up at once; what the devil can this be? but you shall witness it."

The baronet smiled knowingly. "Well," said he, "Mr. Folliard, upon my honor, I thought you had sown your wild oats many a year ago; and, by the way, according to all accounts--hem--but no matter; this, to be sure, will be rather a late crop."

"No, sir, I sowed my wild oats in the right season, when I was hot, young, and impetuous; but long before your age, sir, that field had been allowed to lie barren."

He had scarcely concluded when Miss Herbert, acting upon a plan of her own, which, were not the baronet a man of the most imperturbable coolness, might have staggered, if not altogether confounded him, entered the room.

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, with a flood of tears, kneeling before Mr.

Folliard, "can you forgive and pardon me?"

"It is not against you, foolish girl, that my resentment is or shall be directed, but against the man who employed you--and there he sits."

"Oh, sir!" she exclaimed, again turning to that worthy gentleman, who seemed filled with astonishment.

"In G.o.d's name!" said he, interrupting his accomplice, "what can this mean? Who are you, my good girl?"

"My name's Catherine Wilson, sir."

"Catherine Wilson!" exclaimed the squire--"why, confound your brazen face, are you not the person who styled yourself Miss Herbert, and who lived, thank G.o.d, but for a short time only, in my family?"

"I lived in your family, sir, but I am not the Miss Herbert that Sir Robert Whitecraft recommended to you."

"I certainly know nothing about you, my good girl," replied Sir Robert, "nor do I recollect having ever seen you before; but proceed with what you have to say, and let us hear it at once."

"Yes, sir; but perhaps you are not the gentleman as is known to be Sir Robert Whitecraft--him as hunts the priests. Oh, la, I'll surely be sent to jail. Gentlemen, if you promise not to send me to jail, I'll tell you everything."

"Well, then, proceed," said the squire; "I will not send you to jail, provided you tell the truth."

"Nor I, my good girl," added Sir Robert, "but upon the same conditions."

"Well, then, gentlemen, I was acquainted with Miss Herbert--she is Hirish, but I'm English. This gentleman gave her a letter to you, Mr. Folliard, to get her as maid to Miss Helen--she told me--oh, my goodness, I shall surely be sent to jail."

"Go on, girl," said the baronet somewhat sternly, by which tone of voice he intimated--to her that she was pursuing the right course, and she was quick enough to understand as much.

"Well," she proceeded, "after Miss Herbert had got the letter, she told her sweetheart, who wouldn't by no means allow her to take service, because as why, he wanted to marry her; well, she consented, and they did get married, and both of them left the country because her father wasn't consenting. As the letter was of no use to her then, I asked her for it, and offered myself in her name to you, sir, and that was the way I came into your family for a short time."

The baronet rose up, in well-feigned agitation, and exclaimed, "Unfortunate girl! whoever you may be, you know not the serious mischief and unhappiness that your imposture was nearly entailing upon me."

"But did you not say that you bore an illegitimate child to this gentleman?" asked the squire.

"Oh, la! no, sir; you know I denied that; I never bore an illegitimate child; I bore a love-child, but not to him; and there is no harm in that, sure."

"Well, she certainly has exculpated you, Sir Robert."

"Gentlemen, will you excuse and pardon me? and will you promise not to send me to jail?"

"Go about your business," said Sir Robert, "you unfortunate girl, and be guilty of no such impostures in future. Your conduct has nearly been the means of putting enmity between two families of rank; or rather of alienating one of them from the confidence and good-will of the other.