"Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. She would be in the library, her favorite place, or on the bench by the colored glass window with her embroidery. Take, if you please, your own pistol. She did not think Ann Veronica would do as her companion. The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. Particularly when it was obvious the fellow was one of these pitiful wretches weak enough to allow themselves to be ousted from their inheritances and thus obliged to come seeking succour of their neighbours.
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