“To say to him, ‘Hev patience,’ that was all I said, ‘Hev patience, and ye’ll get every penny.’ I hev a conviction he’ll get every penny. It’s a nice little bit of money, and the land’s no’ such ill land about Burnswark if he were to build a new house. The auld wan we’re in is gude for naething, but Burnswark would be no’ bad for a sma’ property if he were to build a new house; and he’s naething to do but to hev patience--and never to bother t’auld maister in his lifetime, that was what I said.” “You were always a sensible person, Isaac; my uncle’s much obliged to you for taking such care of him. But I hope my brother Harry did not want it. Is he still at Wyburgh, or has he--gone on? Tell us, for you see my mother’s anxious. We have got no letter.” “To my great satisfaction,” said Isaac, “he must have taken my advice, for he went on to Liverpool the same night.” Joan nodded her head a great many times; her face was wreathed in smiles. She took her mother’s feeble hands--straining themselves together as usual--into hers, and beamed upon the messenger. “That is just what I thought! just what I thought!” she said; “far the best thing he could do, and shows his sense, mother. I could have told you from the first! Just see, now, how you torment yourself for nothing at all. I’ll get his things packed and send them off this very night.” Isaac went on droning steadily. “I’m saying nothing again’ Mr. Harry, nor yet reflecting upon ony person at home. Lads are aye wanting, and they’ll ask an auld uncle or aunt, or that, sooner than they’ll ask faither or mither. I’ve seen the like o’ that often, but what I said to Mr. Harry was, ‘Hev patience, that’s aw about it: just hev patience and ye’ll get everything you want.’” “I am sure we are very much obliged to you,” said Joan; “you must have a glass of wine. Would you like port wine or sherry, Isaac? you shall have a glass of the best, and you can come up to the dairy next time you’re going to Wyburgh and take Mrs. Eadie a bit of our sweet butter. Yes, yes, I know you make it yourself, but you must not say it’s as good as mine. Eadie shall have a pat all for herself--I am sure she was kind to Harry--and perhaps some new-laid eggs, they’re a treat in a town.” “I take them in aw we hev at Burnswark. Ye need not trouble, Miss Joan,” said Isaac, “wance a week I take in the best of everything, eggs and cream.” “Or a little honey,” said Joan; “our honey off the Fells is beautiful. It’s that Uncle Henry is so fond of. You shall take them a honey-comb, Isaac; and tell your wife to come up to the house and see me. There’s some things would make up for the children. She’s a good housewife, that wife of yours, and keeps the children always nice. You should be proud of her. She would be a credit to any man.” “Oh, ay,” said Isaac, sheepishly scratching his head, “there’s a many worse, there’s a many worse. I’m making no complaint; but the worst of a wife is that she will never let her man judge for himsel’.”