Emlyn had been bred up in too much awe of Sir Harry to make
objections, but as her friends rode off she gave a sharp shriek,
screamed out one name after another, and finally threw herself down
on the road bank in a wild passion of grief, anger, and despair, and
when Steadfast would have lifted her up and comforted her, she kicked
and fought him away. Presently he tried her again, begging her to
come home.
"I won't! I won't go to your vile, tumble-down, roundhead, crop-
eared hole!" she sobbed out.
"But, Sir Harry--"
"I won't! I say."
He was at his wits' end, but after all, the sound of other steps
coming up startled her into composing herself and sitting up.
"Hollo, Stead Kenton! Got this little puppet on your hands?" said
young Gates. "Hollo, mistress, you squeal like a whole litter of
pigs."
"I am to take charge of her till her friends can send for her," said
Stead, with protecting dignity.
"And that will be a long day! Ho, little wench, where didst get that
sweet voice?"
"Hush, Tom! the child has only just heard that her father is dead.
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