im and not so
harsh for the rent, let him give the place to my father now, for it can
be no use to him; let my father have it for his very own, and then I
think he would be happy after all, he does so like to improve things and
make them beautiful, and if it was his very own there is so much that he
could do. That would be nice work and work that he would enjoy doing,
and not just to get a few wretched shillings to pay other people. I am
sure he would never be cross then, and he would be so kind to my mother,
and kind and good to everybody. There is nobody like him, as you know,
in this place; they are not clever like him, and good to the labouring
men and their families like he is (and so is my mother too); they are so
rough, and so unkind and stupid; I do not mean anything against them,
but they are not like he is. And if you were to help him he would soon
help the poor people and give them food and more wages; you know how
good he is in his heart. And he would do it, not because other people
should praise him, but because he would like to do it; if he does not
go to church his heart is very true, and it is because he likes to be
true and genuine, and not make any false show. Do, please, help him, and
give him some money, and do, please, let him have this place for his
very own, for I do so fear lest those who set my grandfather against
him, should have a will made, so that my father should not have this
house and land as he ought to do, as the son. He has made it so
beautiful with trees, and brought the fresh spring water up to the
house, and done so many clever things, and his heart is here, and it is
home to him, and no other place could be like it. I think it would kill
him not to have it, and for me, I should be so--I cannot tell, I should
be so miserable if he did not, but I will not think of myself. There are
so many things I know he wants to do if only he was not so worried with
debts, and if he could feel it was his own land; he wants to plant a
copse, and to make a pond by the brook, and have trout in it, and to
build a wall by the rick-yard. Think how my dear father has worked all
these years, and do help him now, and give him some money, and this
place, and please do not let him grow any more grey than his hair is
now, and save his eyes, for he is so fond of things that are beautiful,
and please make my mother happy with him."

When Amaryllis rose from her knees her face was quite white, emotion had
taken