id they quarrel about?"

"A good many things; among the rest, about the Latriggs. There was more
than one pretty girl at Up-Hill then, and the young men all knew it. Tom
and his mother were always finger and thumb. He was her youngest boy,
and she fretted after him all her life."

"And uncle Launcelot, did she not fret for him?"

"Not so much. Launcelot was the eldest, and very set in his own way: she
couldn't order him around."

"The eldest? Then father would not have been squire of Sandal-Side if
Launcelot had lived?"

"No, indeed. Launcelot's death made a deal of difference to your father
and me. Father was very solemn and set about his brother's rights; and
even after grandfather died, he didn't like to be called 'squire' until
every hope was long gone. But I would as soon have thought of poor
Launcie coming back from the dead as of Tom's son visiting here; and it
is inconvenient right now, exceedingly so; harvesting coming on, and
preserving time, and none of the spare rooms opened since the spring
cleaning."

"It is trying for you, mother, but perhaps Julius may not be very much
trouble. He'll be with father all the time, and he'll make a change."

"Change! That is just what I dread. Young people are always for change.
They are certain that every change must be a gain. Old people know that
changes mean loss of some kind or other. After one is forty years old,
Sophia, the seasons bring change enough."

"I dare say they do, mother. I don't care much for change, even at my
age. Have you told Charlotte?"

"No, I haven't told her yet. I think she is off to Dalton. Father said
he was going this morning, and he never would go without her."

Indeed, the squire and his younger daughter were at that moment
cantering down the valley, mid the fresh green of the fields, and the
yellow of the ripening wheat, and the hazy purple of mountains holding
the whole landscape in their solemn shelter except in front, where the
road stretched to the sea, amid low hills overgrown with parsley-fern
and stag's-horn-moss. They had not gone very far before they met Stephen
Latrigg. He was well mounted and handsomely dressed; and, as he bowed to
the squire and Charlotte, his happy face expressed a delight which
Sandal in his present mood felt to be offensive. Evidently Steve
intended to accompany them as far as their roads were identical; but the
squire pointedly drew rein, and by the cool civility of his manner made
the young man