Mrs. Berry here took a heavy breath, as one who has said her utmost for
the time being.

"My dear old girl," Richard went up to her and, applauding her on the
shoulder, "you're a very wise old woman. But you mustn't speak to me as
if I wanted to stop here. I'm compelled to. I do it for her good
chiefly."

"It's your father that's doin' it, my dear?"

"Well, I'm waiting his pleasure."

"A pretty pleasure! puttin' a snake in the nest of young turtle-doves!
And why don't she come up to you?"

"Well, that you must ask her. The fact is, she's a little timid girl--
she wants me to see him first, and when I've made all right, then she'll
come."

"A little timid girl!" cried Mrs. Berry. "Oh, lor', how she must ha'
deceived ye to make ye think that! Look at that ring," she held out her
finger, "he's a stranger: he's not my lawful! You know what ye did to
me, my dear. Could I get my own wedding-ring back from her? "No!" says
she, firm as a rock, 'he said, with this ring I thee wed'--I think I
see her now, with her pretty eyes and lovesome locks--a darlin'!--And
that ring she'd keep to, come life, came death. And she must ha' been a
rock for me to give in to her in that. For what's the consequence? Here
am I," Mrs. Berry smoothed down the back of her hand mournfully, "here am
I in a strange ring, that's like a strange man holdin' of me, and me a-