Still there's a
young fellow, the son of a squire, as is very sweet upon her, and is
always following of her about. If she could manage to catch him, she'd
do well, but the young gent's father don't approve of it, and is like to
cut him off to a shilling if he marries her. Folks say that the young
squire is a bit of a scamp, and don't mean marriage. It'll be a pity if
the maid goes wrong, for she is a good girl, and no mistake." Now this was gall and wormwood to me. I knew that that rascal young
Rashly had been hovering about Molly's house for some time. He had often
crossed me in my walks with Molly, and we hated each other like poison,
but I also knew that Molly couldn't bear the sight of him, for she was
really and truly in love with me, yet the very mention of his name
coupled with hers made my blood boil. Mastering my emotion, however, I
asked with as much apparent indifference as possible, "And this young
gentleman, where is he now?" "Oh, up to his larks, I'll warrant," said the man, with a laugh. "The
girl's father has sent her away to live with her aunt, to get her out of
Jack's way, as he is not friends with Jack's father, and I guess out of
the way of the young squire, too; but young Rashly has been absent now
some time from the village, and I'll be bound he has found her out by
this time. Now that poor Jack's dead he'll have the way all clear before
him." "The devil take him," I muttered to myself. I was bursting with rage,
and to conceal my emotion, I affected to stare out of the window at some
object, while my heart beat underneath my borrowed waistcoat, and must
have been audible but for the coach wheels. I appeared again absorbed in
my book while the rest of the passengers discoursed upon general topics. "Give us the halfpenny," I heard my bluff fellow-traveller say to his
friend; "it's been fairly von." His friend's hand was buried for an
instant, and the coin was transferred from his to the farmer's breeches
pocket. "That's zum business, onyrate," said the countryman, receiving the
payment of the bet with a chuckle. The stage then rolled on for some distance further, till some passenger
called out:

"There is H----, any passenger for H----?" "Yes, sir," said I; "I am for H----." The stage stopped, and with trembling hands and beating heart I squeezed
past the other passengers. "Good morning, gentlemen," said I, as I walked off. The stage was set in motion again. There was no other passenger but
myself for the village of H----, so I strolled off with light step to
the nearest inn. Having refreshed myself with a light luncheon, I strolled about the
country a bit until I came across--you may be surprised, gentlemen--but
I actually came across the very same house with the very identical
country round about it, including the wood, that appeared in my dream. I
certainly _was_ startled. "Yonder, then, is the house of Molly's aunt," I thought, and I walked
towards it, thinking all the while how I should introduce myself. Before I reached the house, however, two figures in the distance under
the trees of the wood attracted my gaze. I looked again. One of the
figures, I was sure, could be no other than Molly herself, and the other
I was equally certain was young Rashly. I hastened my steps, but by a route so as not to come directly in front
of them, for I wished to overhear their conversation. Having made a
roundabout cut, I concealed myself behind some brushwood, where I could
both see them distinctly, and hear all they said without being seen by
them. "Come, Molly," I heard young Rashly say, "enough of this. What is the
good of making yourself miserable about young Hearty? He's dead now,
poor fellow--he was a great friend of mine, but now that he is gone and
can never come back to you, try to forget him. I wish to console you and
to raise your spirits. Now, my dear girl, do try and forget him." "Oh, never, never!" sobbed Molly, "I never _can_ forget him. I shall
never be able to love anyone else. Poor fellow! He died out of love for
me, I know he did. Oh, Jack, Jack, I never can forget you--never,
never!" and she sobbed as if her heart would break. "Now, Molly, this is nothing but obstinacy; you can't call him back,
however you may mourn for him. Just look at the position _I_ offer you. _I_ shall be able to make you more comfortable than Jack would have been
able to make you. Is it nothing to be made a lady of? Don't be a fool,
girl, and throw such a chance away. Hundreds in your place would jump at
it." "How can I accept such terms from a man I do not love?" cried Molly. "Would I not be one of the basest of women to persuade you that I loved
you just to become your wife, when my heart is another's?" "How can your heart be another's when Jack is no more?" asked he. "Yes, yes; in death my heart shall still be his," Molly cried. "Come, now, you're talking like a mad girl. Just listen to reason a bit. I will settle a good round sum a year upon you to keep you as a lady in
a nice little cottage with a garden, where I shall always be able to
come to pay you a visit in secret, when my father is out of the way." "Then you never from the first intended to _marry_ me," interrupted
Molly, "you only--only--wanted to----"

"Why, actually _marry_ you, no; I never intended that. _That_ would be
impossible, but----"

"Exactly; I understand you," answered Molly, proudly, "but I scorn your
base proposals. If you were to lay the wealth of the universe at my
feet, I would never barter my good name. So _this_ is what you have been
trying at all this time, to make me your minion. "When first you visited me, you gave me to understand that your
intentions were honourable, and though I loved you not, and never could,
yet I respected you and felt compassion for you and tried to think of
you as a friend. Now I neither pity nor respect you, but _despise_ you. Go, sir, and never dare to speak to me again!" "What a trump of a girl!" I muttered to myself. "Molly! Molly!" cried Rashly, starting backward in amazement, "are you
mad?" "I should be mad to accept your proposals," replied Molly, calmly, but
firmly. "Go, sir--all friendship between us is at an end." "My dear Molly," began Rashly, "I beg of you, I entreat you to calm
yourself--to take a more reasonable view of the matter. Come, let me
persuade you, dear," said he, advancing and attempting to put his arm
round her waist, but he was instantly repulsed. He essayed again. "Dare to touch me once more, sir, and I'll scream--I'll rouse the
neighbourhood and expose you." "Hush, hush!" said Rashly, nothing daunted, "be reasonable, there's a
good girl, I'll do you no harm," and he ventured to touch her again. "Back, sir, I say!" and she lifted up her voice to scream, but instantly
his hand was on her mouth. I could endure it no longer, but bursting from my hiding-place, and
grasping firmly my gold-headed cane, I sprang to the spot. "Who are you, sir?" I cried, boiling with rage, "that dare offer to
insult my niece? Begone!