'Well, I suppose he must represent the reeds. You know the story of
King Midas's barber, who found out that his royal master had the ears
of an ass beneath his hyacinthine curls. So the barber, in default of a
Mr. Wynne, went to the reeds that grew on the shores of a neighbouring
lake, and whispered to them, "King Midas has the ears of an ass." But
he repeated it so often that the reeds learnt the words, and kept on
saying them all the day long, till at the last the secret was no secret
at all. If you keep on telling your tale to Mr. Wynne, are you sure he
won't repeat it in his turn?'

'If I pledge my word as a gentleman, sir, I pledge it for Mr. Wynne as
well.'

'I suppose I must run the risk. But remember how soon a young girl's
name may be breathed upon, and sullied. Molly has no mother, and for
that very reason she ought to move among you all, as unharmed as Una
herself.'

'Mr. Gibson, if you wish it, I'll swear it on the Bible,' cried the
excitable young man.

'Nonsense. As if your word, if it's worth anything, was not enough!
We'll shake hands upon it, if you like.'

Mr. Coxe came forward eagerly, and almost squeezed Mr. Gibson's ring
into his finger.

As he was leaving the room, he said, a little uneasily, 'May I give
Bethia a crown-piece?'