, Caleb," said
Mrs. Garth, who was a firm woman, but knew that there were some points
on which her mild husband was yet firmer. "Still, it seems to be fixed
that Fred is to go back to college: will it not be better to wait and
see what he will choose to do after that? It is not easy to keep
people against their will. And you are not yet quite sure enough of
your own position, or what you will want."

"Well, it may be better to wait a bit. But as to my getting plenty of
work for two, I'm pretty sure of that. I've always had my hands full
with scattered things, and there's always something fresh turning up.
Why, only yesterday--bless me, I don't think I told you!--it was rather
odd that two men should have been at me on different sides to do the
same bit of valuing. And who do you think they were?" said Caleb,
taking a pinch of snuff and holding it up between his fingers, as if it
were a part of his exposition. He was fond of a pinch when it occurred
to him, but he usually forgot that this indulgence was at his command.

His wife held down her knitting and looked attentive.

"Why, that Rigg, or Rigg Featherstone, was one. But Bulstrode was
before him, so I'm going to do it for Bulstrode. Whether it's mortgage
or purchase they're going for, I can't tell yet."

"Can that man be going to sell the land just left him--which he has
taken the name for?" said Mrs. Garth.

"Deuce knows," said Caleb, who never referred the knowledge of
discreditable doings to any higher power than the deuce. "But
Bulstrode has long been wanting to get a handsome bit of land under his
fingers--that I know. And it's a difficult matter to get, in this part
of the country."

Caleb scattered his snuff carefully instead of taking it, and then
added, "The ins and outs of things are curious. Here is the land
they've been all along expecting for Fred, which it seems the old man
never meant to leave him a foot of, but left it to this side-slip of a
son that he kept in the dark, and thought of his sticking there and
vexing everybody as well as he could have vexed 'em himself if he could
have kept alive. I say, it would be curious if it got into Bulstrode's
hands after all. The old man hated him, and never would bank with him."

"What reason could the miserable creature have for hating a man whom he
had nothing to do with?" said Mrs. Garth.

"Pooh! where's the use of asking for such fellows' reasons? The soul
of man," said Caleb, with t