“I know you’ve promised to be wife to my son some day, an’ I know he’ve taken partickler gude care to hide from you my view of the question. But you must hear it, for your awn sake as well as his an’ mine. I’ve nothin’ against you, Sarah, nothin’, an’ less than nothin’, for I like you well an’ wish to see you so gude as you’m purty an’ so happy as you’m gude; but I know my son for a lad of light purposes an’ weak will an’ wrong ambitions. Ban’t enough iron in un; an’ the maid I’m set on for un have got a plenty backbone to make up for his lack. Her he’s to wed in fulness o’ time, if I’ve any voice left in affairs; an’ if he doan’t, ’tis gude-bye to Bellever for him, an’ gude-bye to more’n that. So theer he stands, Sarah, an’ you’d best to hear what it means. Maybe you thought you was makin’ choice between a labourin’ man an’ a gentleman, between a pauper an’ a young chap wi’ his pockets full o’ money. But ban’t so, I assure ’e. ’Tis the gentleman’ll be the pauper if he marries you; but John Aggett—why, I offered un my cottage in Longley Bottom free o’ rent from the day as your banns was axed in marriage wi’ un to Widecombe Church! That’s the man as gived ’e up for love of ’e. An’ ban’t you so strong as him?” “Tu gude he was—tu gude for the likes o’ me.” “Well, as to t’other, though he’s my son, blamed if I think he’s gude enough. But that’s neither here nor theer. The question ban’t what sort of love he’s got for you; but what sort you’ve got for him. Do ’e follow my meanin’? I doan’t storm or rave, you see—tu wise for that. I only bid you think serious whether your feeling for Timothy’s the sort to ruin him, or to save him from ruin. ’Tis a hard choice for ’e, but we’m all faaced wi’ ugly puzzles ’pon the crossways o’ life. Now you know my ’pinions, you’ll do what’s right, or you’m not the girl I think ’e.” “I must give un up for all time?” “Best not put it that way. Doan’t drag my rascal of a bwoy in the argeyment. Say to yourself, ‘I must mate him as I promised to mate—him that’s wastin’ his life an’ gwaine all wrong for love o’ me.’ ’Tis plain duty, woman, looked at right. Not that I’d rob ’e of the pleasure of knowin’ you’d done a gert deed if you gived Tim up; but t’other’s the man as you’ve got to think of; an’, if you do this gude thing, ’tis just similar as he done for you. Wi’ Jan Aggett be your happiness wrapped up, if you could see it. An’ Jan’s much more like to go well in marriage harness than my son be, or I doan’t know carater.” “I’ll try, I’ll try. It’s more than I’ve heart or strength for, but I’ll try, Maister Chave. I’ll try to do right by both of them.” “Who could say fairer? An’ here’s the lane to blacksmith’s, so I’ll drop ’e. An’ give your faither my respects an’ tell un I want un to-morrow to the farm.” After Sarah had dismounted the farmer spoke again.