Now, I consider I have had a pleasant morning.
The disappointments got time on; the fears and fits of anger only made
that short discourse pleasanter, when it came at last. She expected to
coax me at once. She'll not manage that in one effort. She shall come
again, again, and yet again. It would please me to put her in a
passion--to make her cry. I want to discover how far she will go--what
she will do and dare--to get her will. It seems strange and new to find
one human being thinking so much about another as she thinks about
Moore. But it is time to go home; my appetite tells me the hour. Won't I
walk into that goose? and we'll try whether Matthew or I shall get the
largest cut of the apple-pie to-day."

CHAPTER XXXV.

WHEREIN MATTERS MAKE SOME PROGRESS, BUT NOT MUCH.

Martin had planned well. He had laid out a dexterously concerted scheme
for his private amusement. But older and wiser schemers than he are
often doomed to see their finest-spun projects swept to annihilation by
the sudden broom of Fate, that fell housewife whose red arm none can
control. In the present instance this broom was manufactured out of the
tough fibres of Moore's own stubborn purpose, bound tight with his will.
He was now resuming his strength, and making strange head against Mrs.
Horsfall. Each morning he amazed that matron with a fresh astonishment.
First he discharged her from her valet duties; he would dress himself.
Then he refused the coffee she brought him; he would breakfast with the
family. Lastly, he forbade her his chamber. On the same day, amidst the
outcries of all the women in the place, he put his head out of doors.
The morning after, he followed Mr. Yorke to his counting-house, and
requested an envoy to fetch a chaise from the Red House Inn. He was
resolved, he said, to return home to the Hollow that very afternoon. Mr.
Yorke, instead of opposing, aided and abetted him. The chaise was sent
for, though Mrs. Yorke declared the step would be his death. It came.
Moore, little disposed to speak, made his purse do duty for his tongue.
He expressed his gratitude to the servants and to Mrs. Horsfall by the
chink of his coin. The latter personage approved and understood this
language perfectly; it made amends for all previous contumacy. She and
her patient parted the best friends in the world.

The kitchen visited and soothed, Moore betook himself to the parlour. He
had Mrs. Yorke to appease; not quite so easy a task as the