Of course he would like to have the old man's
money; but the old man couldn't live for ever, and he supposed that
things would come right in time. But this he knew,--that he wasn't
going to cringe to the old man about his money. When Roger observed
that it would be better that Ruby should have some home to which she
might at once return, John adverted with a renewed grin to all the
substantial comforts of his own house. It seemed to be his idea, that
on arriving in London he would at once take Ruby away to church and be
married to her out of hand. He had thrashed his rival, and what cause
could there now be for delay?

But before he left the field he made one other speech to the squire.
'You ain't a'taken it amiss, squoire, 'cause he was coosin to
yourself?'

'Not in the least, Mr Crumb.'

'That's koind now. I ain't a done the yong man a ha'porth o' harm, and
I don't feel no grudge again him, and when me and Ruby's once spliced,
I'm darned if I don't give 'un a bottle of wine the first day as he'll
come to Bungay.'

Roger did not feel himself justified in accepting this invitation on
the part of Sir Felix; but he renewed his assurance that he, on his
own part, thought that Crumb had behaved well in that matter of the
street encounter, and he expressed a strong wish for the immediate and
continued happiness of Mr and Mrs John Crumb.

'Oh, ay, we'll be 'appy, squoire,' said Crumb as he went exulting out
of the field.

On the day after this Roger Carbury received a letter which disturbed
him very much, and to which he hardly knew whether to return any
answer, or what answer. It was from Paul Montague, and was written by
him but a few hours after he had left his letter for Hetta with his
own hands, at the door of her mother's house. Paul's letter to Roger
was as follows:--

MY DEAR ROGER,--

Though I know that you have cast me off from you I cannot write
to you in any other way, as any other way would be untrue. You
can answer me, of course, as you please, but I do think that you
will owe me an answer, as I appeal to you in the name of
justice.

You know what has taken place between Hetta and myself. She had
accepted me, and therefore I am justified in feeling sure that
she must have loved me. But she has now quarrelled with me
altogether, and has told me that I am never to see her again. Of
course I don't mean to put up with this. Who would? You will say
that it is no bu