Barbara looked wonderingly at him through the veil of tears that obscured her sight. What did he mean? ‘He is an old man, papa, but hard as iron. He has white hair, but none of the reverence which clings to age attaches to him.’ ‘White hair!’ Mr. Jordan turned the scythe, and with the point aimed at, missed, aimed at again, and cut down a white-seeded dandelion in the grass. ‘That is white, but the neck is soft, even if the head be hard,’ said Mr. Jordan, pointing to the dandelion. ‘I wish that were his head, and I had cut through his neck. But then——’ he seemed to fall into a bewildered state—’the blood should run red—run, run, dribble over the edge, red. This is milky, but acrid.’ He recovered himself. ‘I have only cut down a head of dandelion.’ He reversed the scythe again, and stood leaning his arm on the back of the blade, and staying the handle against his knee. ‘My dear father, had you not better put the scythe away?’ ‘Why should I do that? I have done no harm with it. No one can set on me for what I have cut with it—only a white old head of dandelion with a soft neck. Think—if it had been Ezekiel Babb’s head sticking out of the grass, with the white hair about it, and the sloe-black wicked eyes, and with one cut of the scythe—swish, it had tumbled over, with the stalk upwards, bleeding, bleeding, and the eyes were in the grass, and winking because the daisies teased them and made them water.’ Barbara was distressed. She must change the current of his thoughts. To do this she caught at the first thing that came into her head. ‘Papa! I will tell you what Mr. Coyshe was talking to me about. It is quite right, as you say, that you should know all; it is proper that nothing should be kept from you.’ ‘It is hardly big enough,’ said Mr. Jordan. ‘What, papa?’ ‘The dandelion. I can’t feel towards it as if it were Mr. Babb’s head.’ ‘Papa,’ said Barbara, speaking rapidly, and eager to divert his mind into another channel, ‘papa dear, do you know that the doctor is much attached to our pet?’ ‘It could not be otherwise. Everyone loves Eve; if they do not, they deserve to die.’ ‘Papa! He told me as much as that. He admires her greatly, and would dearly like to propose for her, but, though I do not suppose he is bashful, he is not quite sure that she cares for him.’ ‘Eve shall have whom she will. If she does not like Coyshe, she shall have anyone else.’ Then he hinted that, though he had no doubt he would make himself a great name in his profession, and in time be very wealthy, that yet he could not afford as he is now circumstanced to marry a wife without means. ‘There! there!’ exclaimed Mr. Jordan, becoming again excited. ‘See how the wrong done by Ezekiel Babb is beginning to work. There is a future, a fine future offering for my child, but she cannot accept it. The gate is open, but she may not pass through, because she has not the toll-money in her hand.’ ‘Are you sure, papa, that Mr. Coyshe would make Eve happy?’