rt answered.

"But Gammon's got the wisdom to keep himself safe, Robert; there's no
one to blame for his wrinkles."

"Gammon's a sheepskin old Time writes his nothings on," said Robert.
"He's safe--safe enough. An old hulk doesn't very easily manage to
founder in the mud, and Gammon's been lying on the mud all his life."

"Let that be how 't will," returned the farmer; "I've had days o' mortal
envy of that old man."

"Well, it's whether you prefer being the fiddle or the fiddle-case,"
quoth Robert.

Of Anthony the farmer no longer had any envy. In him, though he was as
passive as Master Gammon, the farmer beheld merely a stupefied old
man, and not a steady machine. He knew that some queer misfortune had
befallen Anthony.

"He'll find I'm brotherly," said Mr. Fleming; but Anthony had darkened
his golden horizon for him, and was no longer an attractive object to
his vision.

Upon an Autumn afternoon; Dahlia, looking like a pale Spring flower,
came down among them. She told her sister that it was her wish to see
Edward. Rhoda had lost all power of will, even if she had desired to
keep them asunder. She mentioned Dahlia's wish to her father, who at
once went for his hat, and said: "Dress yourself neat, my lass." She
knew what was meant by that remark. Messages daily had been coming down
from the Hall, but the rule of a discerning lady was then established
there, and Rhoda had been spared a visit from either Edward or Algernon,
though she knew them to be at hand. During Dahlia's convalescence, the
farmer had not spoken to Rhoda of her engagement to the young squire.
The great misery intervening, seemed in her mind to have cancelled all
earthly engagements; and when he said that she must use care in her
attire he suddenly revived a dread within her bosom, as if he had
plucked her to the verge of a chasm.

But Mrs. Lovell's delicacy was still manifest: Edward came alone, and he
and Dahlia were left apart.

There was no need to ask for pardon from those gentle eyes. They joined
hands. She was wasted and very weak, but she did not tremble. Passion
was extinguished. He refrained from speaking of their union, feeling
sure that they were united. It required that he should see her to know
fully the sinner he had been. Wasted though she was, he was ready to
make her his own, if only for the sake of making amends to this dear
fair soul, whose picture of Saint was impressed on him, first as a
response to the world wondering