She looked amazed,--then scared.

"Ned Landon?"

"Ay! Ned Landon. He hasn't the sweetest of tempers and he isn't
always sober. He's a bit in the way sometimes,--ay, ay!--a bit in
the way! But he's a good farm hand for all that,--and his word
stands for something! I'd rather he hadn't heard you and Robin
talking last night--but what's done is done, and it's a mischief
easy mended--"

"Why, what mischief can there be?" the girl demanded, her colour
coming and going quickly--"And why should he have listened? It's a
mean trick to spy upon others!"

He smiled indulgently.

"Of course it's a mean trick, child!--but there's a good many men
--and women too--who are just made up of mean tricks and nothing
more. They spend their lives in spying upon their neighbours and
interfering in everybody's business. You'd soon find that out, my
girl, if you lived in the big world that lies outside Briar Farm!
Ay!--and that reminds me--" Here he came from the door back into
the room again, and going to a quaint old upright oaken press that
stood in one corner, he unlocked it and took out a roll of bank-
notes. These he counted carefully over to himself, and folding
them up put them away in his breast pocket. "Now I'm ready!" he
said--"Ready for all I've got to do! Good-bye, my wilding!" He
approached her, and lifting her small face between his hands,