"Yes, sir. I like Reed. And if I did not, he has no more right to be turned out of his home than Major Parrifer has out of his. How would _he_ like it, if some rich and powerful man came down on his place and turned him out?" "Major Parrifer can't be turned out of his, Johnny. It is his own." "And Reed's place is mine, sir--if you won't be angry with me for saying it. Please don't let it be done, Mr. Brandon." The pony-carriage came rattling up at this juncture, and we saw Tod look at the windows impatiently. I got up, and Mr. Brandon shook hands with me. "What you have said is all very good, Johnny, right in principle; but I cannot let it quite outweigh your interests. When this proposal shall be put before me--as you say it will be--it must have my full consideration." I stopped when I got to the door and turned to look at him. If he would only have given me an assurance! He read in my face what I wanted. "No, Johnny, I can't do that. You may go home easy for the present, however; for I will promise not to accept the offer to purchase without first seeing you again and showing you my reasons." "I may have gone back to school, sir." "I tell you I will see you again if I decide to accept the offer," he repeated emphatically. And I went out to the pony-chaise. "Old Brandon means to sell," said Tod, when I told him. And he gave the pony an angry cut, that made him fly off at a gallop. Will anybody believe that I never heard another word upon the subject, except what people said in the way of gossip? It was soon known that Mr. Brandon had declined to sell the cottage; and when his lawyer wrote him word that the sum, offered for it, was increased to quite an unprecedented amount, considering the value of the cottage and garden in question, Mr. Brandon only sent a peremptory note back again, saying he was not in the habit of changing his decisions, and the place _was not for sale_. Tod threw up his hat. "Bravo, old Brandon! I thought he'd not go quite over to the enemy." George Reed wanted to thank me for it. One evening, in passing his cottage on my way home from the Court, I leaned over the gate to speak to his little ones. He saw me and came running out. The rays of the setting sun shone on the children's white corded bonnets. "I have to thank you for this, sir. They are going to renew my lease." "Are they? All right. But you need not thank me; I know nothing about it." George Reed gave a decisive nod. "If you hadn't got the ear of Mr. Brandon, sir, I know what box I should have been in now. Look at them girls!" It was not a very complimentary mode of speech, as applied to the Misses Parrifer. Three of them were passing, dressed outrageously in the fashion as usual. I lifted my straw hat, and one of them nodded in return, but the other two only looked out of the tail of their eyes.