happily with the bailiff’s clerk as with the hunter Robert? Ah! you don’t know what a fine lad William is; so good, so kind-hearted,—”
“May be, like enough,” interrupted Bertram; kind-hearted, I dare say, but no hunter for all that. Now, look here, Anne: for better than two hundred years has this farm in the forest of Linden come down from father to child in my family. Had’st thou brought me a son, well and good: the farm would have gone to Lim; and the lass might have married whom she would. But, as the case stands,—no, I say. What the devil! have I had all this trouble and vexation of mind to get the duke’s allowance for my son-in-law to stand his examination as soon as he is master of the huntsman’s business; and just, when all’s settled, must I go and throw the girl away? A likely thing, indeed! No, no, mistress Anne, it’s no use talking. It’s not altogether Robert that I care about. I don’t stand upon trifles: and, if the man is not to your taste or the girl’s, why look out any other active huntsman that may
