father to you all--that's what it is. But I shall pull up,
sir."

Godfrey was silent. He was not likely to be very penetrating in his
judgments, but he had always had a sense that his father's indulgence
had not been kindness, and had had a vague longing for some discipline
that would have checked his own errant weakness and helped his better
will. The Squire ate his bread and meat hastily, took a deep draught
of ale, then turned his chair from the table, and began to speak again.

"It'll be all the worse for you, you know--you'd need try and help me
keep things together."

"Well, sir, I've often offered to take the management of things, but
you know you've taken it ill always, and seemed to think I wanted to
push you out of your place."

"I know nothing o' your offering or o' my taking it ill," said the
Squire, whose memory consisted in certain strong impressions unmodified
by detail; "but I know, one while you seemed to be thinking o'
marrying, and I didn't offer to put any obstacles in your way, as some
fathers would. I'd as lieve you married Lammeter's daughter as
anybody. I suppose, if I'd said you nay, you'd ha' kept on with it;
but, for want o' contradiction, you've changed your mind. You're a
shilly-shally fellow: you take after your poor mother. She never had a
will of her own; a woman has no call for one, if she's got a proper man
for her husband. But _your_ wife had need have one, for you hardly
know your own mind enough to make both your legs walk one way. The
lass hasn't said downright she won't have you, has she?"

"No," said Godfrey, feeling very hot and uncomfortable; "but I don't
think she will."

"Think! why haven't you the courage to ask her? Do you stick to it,
you want to have _her_--that's the thing?"

"There's no other woman I want to marry," said Godfrey, evasively.

"Well, then, let me make the offer for you, that's all, if you haven't
the pluck to do it yourself. Lammeter isn't likely to be loath for his
daughter to marry into _my_ family, I should think. And as for the
pretty lass, she wouldn't have her cousin--and there's nobody else, as
I see, could ha' stood in your way."

"I'd rather let it be, please sir, at present," said Godfrey, in alarm.
"I think she's a little offended with me just now, and I should like to
speak for myself. A man must manage these things for himself."

"Well, speak, then, and manage it, and see if you can't turn over a new
leaf. That's wha