"And likely ye've never had the scribe of a line from him sin' he
left. But he's no wanter; he'll never marry ye, lass, so ye need never
set heart on him."

Rotha stepped close to the woman and looked into her face. What
wickedness was now brewing?

"Nay, saucer een," said Mrs. Garth with a snirt, "art tryin' to
skiander me like yon saucy baggish, laal Liza?"

"Come, Mrs. Garth, let us understand one another," said Rotha
solemnly. "What is it you wish to tell me? You said my father had gone
on a bootless errand. What do you know about it? Tell me, and don't
torment me, woman."

"Nay, then, I've naught to say. Naught but that Ralph Ray is on the
stormy side of the hedge _this_ time."

Mrs. Garth laughed again.

"He is in trouble, that is true; but what has he done to you that you
should be glad at his misfortunes?"

"Done? done?" said Mrs. Garth; "why--but we'll not talk of that, my
lass. Ask _him_ if ye'd know. Or mayhap ye'll ask yon shaffles, yer
father."

What could the woman mean?

"Tak my word for it; never set heart on yon Ralph: he's a doomed man.