an' bad temper of auld age. Even a poor,
doddering ancient such as I shall be in a few years won't weary her;
she'll look back'ards with butivul clear eyes, an' won't forget. She'll
see--not awnly a cracked, shrivelled auld man grizzling an' grumbling in
the chimbley corner, but what the man was wance--a faither, strong an'
lusty, as dandled her, an' worked for, an' loved her with all his heart
in the days of his bygone manhood. Ess, my Phoebe's all that; an' she
comes here wi' the child; an' it pleases me, for rightly onderstood,
childern be a gert keeper-off of age."

"I'm sure she's a good daughter to you, Miller. And Will?"

"Doan't you fret. We've worked it out in our minds--me an' Billy; an' if
two auld blids like us can't hatch a bit o' wisdom, what brains is worth
anything? We'm gwaine to purify the awdacious young chap 'so as by
fire,' in holy phrase."

"You're dealing with a curious temperament."

"I'm dealing with a damned fule," said Mr. Lyddon frankly; "but theer's
fules an' fules, an' this partickler wan's grawed dear to me in some
ways despite myself. 'T is Phoebe's done it at bottom I s'pose. The
man's so full o' life an' hope. Enough energy in un for ten men; an'
enough folly for twenty. Yet he've a gude heart an' never lied in's life
to my knawledge."

"That's to give him praise, and high praise. How's his sister? I hear
she's returned after all."

"Ess--naughty twoad of a gal--runned arter the gypsies! But she'm
sobered now. Funny to think her mother, as seemed like a woman robbed of
her right hand when Chris went, an' beginned to graw into the sere
onusual quick for a widow, took new life as soon as her gal comed back.
Just shaws what strength lies in a darter, as I tell 'e."

The old man's garrulity gained upon him, and though Martin much desired
to be gone, he had not the heart to hasten.

"A darter's the thing an'--but't is a secret yet--awnly you'll see what
you'll see. Coourse Billy's very well for gathered wisdom and high
conversation 'bout the world to come; but he ban't like a woman round
the house, an' for all his ripe larnin' he'll strike fire
sometimes--mostly when I gives him a bad beating at 'Oaks' of a evenin'.
Then he'm so acid as auld rhubarb, an' dots off to his bed wi'out a
'gude-night.'"

For another ten minutes Mr. Lyddon chattered, but at the end of that
time Martin escaped and proceeded homewards. His head throbbed and his
mind was much excited by the intelligence of