"It's jolly simple after all. We are going away before winter, when there's a flood four days a week, and a gale the other three. Grandfather owns the place has beaten him. He says a man who tries to farm on Dartmoor ought to receive a premium instead of paying a rent. If it isn't bog, it's rock, and, if it isn't rock, it's 'vuzzy trade.' And if you do put in a crop, the moles turn it out; and, if the moles don't turn it out, rabbits, sheep, mice and grubs in millions and slugs in trillions gobble it up completely. Now come and be introduced to grandfather, and then I'll take you home. He is sure to growl at you, but you must stand up to him, and then he'll love you. He likes anyone to stand up to him. The vicar got the living by contradicting him. I say, Nellie, don't hurry back to Drivelford." "Are you aware you have not called me Miss Blisland once?" she demanded, showing no inclination to approach the terrible black grandfather. "Quite! And are you aware you have never once called me Sidney?" "I must go back in the morning. Miss Yard will be crazy all night without me. She will think I've been kidnapped," Nellie hurried on. "She won't be wrong." "I should like to start at once, though I hate the idea of facing George. I'm a dreadful coward really, and I'm afraid he will think I have treated him badly. He knows of my arrival, but I'm quite certain he is not bothering to look for me." "A kick in the face will do him good," replied Sidney disdainfully. "He can't take a joke, though he did try to take me, and I'm much the biggest joke he has ever run against. The truth of the matter is he has made up his mind to get back the Captain's furniture, which belongs to Miss Yard now, and he knows the only way he can get it is by marrying me." "There's grandfather growling! He's telling Teenie to go to bed, and she's telling him to go himself. That kid never is tired. Now he's chuckling! Grandfather likes to be cheeked." "I ought to have gone long ago. It must be getting on for midnight." "And we've got to be up early. I'm coming with you, and you shall introduce me to Miss Yard, and then I'll take you to my people, and then we'll get married--" "Well, of all the precociousness!" she gasped. "Do you know I'm older than you?" "You can't blame me for that." "And I expect to be treated with respect. And my father was never anything more than a very poor curate." "Well, a curate is a bishop on a small scale, and we are only shopkeepers on a large scale. It's funny that poor curates should always have the nicest daughters." "And I can't forgive you for talking to me like a farmer's boy." "Then I won't forgive you for saying horrid things, and thinking worse about my mother and sisters." "Of course we might forget. But then that wouldn't be enough. So I can never marry you, Sidney--at least, not until Miss Sophy dies." "She'll have to be jolly quick about it," said the young man fiercely.