, his wits
quickened by love, displayed a tact and deftness of words not to have
been anticipated from him. At first Phoebe took fire when Grimbal
criticised Will in anything but a spirit of utmost friendliness; but it
was vital to his own hopes that he should cloud the picture painted on
her heart if he could; so, by degrees and with all the cleverness at his
command, he dropped gall into poor Phoebe's cup in minute doses. He
mourned the extreme improbability of Blanchard's success, grounding his
doubt on Will's uneven character; he pictured Blanchard's fight with the
world and showed how probable it was that he would make it a losing
battle by his own peculiarities of temper. He declared the remoteness of
happiness for Miss Lyddon in that direction to be extreme; he deplored
the unstable nature of a young man's affection all the world over; and
he made solid capital out of the fact that not once since his departure
had her lover communicated with Phoebe. She argued against this that her
father had forbidden it; but Mr. Grimbal overrode the objection, and
asked what man in love would allow himself to be bound by such a
command. As a matter of fact, Will had sent two messages at different
times to his sweetheart. These came through Clement Hicks, and only
conveyed the intelligence that the wanderer was well.

So Phoebe suffered persistent courting and her soft mould of mind sank a
little under the storm. Now, weary and weak, she hesitated; now a wave
of strength fortified her spirit. That John Grimbal should be dogged and
importunate she took as mere masculine characteristics, and the fact did
not anger her against him; but what roused her secret indignation almost
as often as they met was his half-hidden air of sanguine confidence. He
was humble in a way, always the patient lover, but in his manner she
detected an indefinable, irritating self-confidence--the demeanour of
one who already knows himself a conqueror before the battle is fought.

Thus the position gradually developed. As yet her father had not spoken
to Phoebe or pretended to any knowledge of what was doing; but there
came a night, at the end of November, when John Grimbal, the miller, and
Billy sat and smoked at Monks Barton after Phoebe's departure to bed.
Mr. Blee, very well knowing what matter moved the minds of his
companions, spoke first.

"Missy have put on a temperate way of late days it do seem. I most begin
to think that cat-a-mountain of a bwoy