“Then I’d go t’ straight road wi’ her, lad,” he continued. “Make it in your way to see her before another day’s out, and just tell her ’at you think more of her than of aught else there is i’ t’ wide world. As like as not she’ll say ’at i’ that case you’ll do as she wants you and make friends wi’ Baldwin; and all t’ time it’ll be you and not Baldwin she’s thinking about, and if you’ll only bide your time and look where you’re going, you’ll as like as not come back wi’ your arm round her waist. But women has to be humoured and made to think ’at they’re getting their own way; and when they’ve got a whimsey i’ their head it’s no use taking t’ hammer and punch to it, ’cause that only drives it deeper in; you’ve got t’ use t’ oil-can and loosen it bit by bit till they hardly know they’ve lost it. And i’stead o’ bending your brows while you look like t’ Gordel i’ a thunderstorm it ’ud pay you to put a smile on, and a face like t’ Cove when t’ afternoon sun shines on it. ‘Laugh and the world laughs with you,’ it says on t’ almanack, and t’ worst gift your mother left wi’ you—and, poor lass, she couldn’t help it—was a long face and a quick temper. I’m afraid for you, Jagger, but I wish you well, lad; and I’m stumbling along t’ road your mother ’ud ha’ gone easy.” The young man looked steadily into his father’s face, but the shadow was still deep on his forehead. “Then if that’s her last word you’d have me knuckle under to Baldwin, and be t’ laughing stock o’ t’ country-side?” he asked in a low hard voice. “If I loved her better than aught else i’ t’ world I’d be like t’ man in t’ parable ’at was seeking goodly pearls; I’d sell all ’at I had to get her,” replied his father. “Mind you, lad, I’m straight wi’ you; I don’t think Baldwin’ll have you back; but I daresay he’d like t’ chance o’ refusing you and glorying in it, for little minds take pleasure i’ little things. But i’ that case, you see, you’ll ha’ won your case wi’ Nancy——” “And if he’s more sense than you give him credit for,” interrupted Jagger, in a voice that had grown even more bitter; “if he knows which side his bread’s buttered on, and takes me back with this Inman to be my boss, and the pair of ’em to force me to do their dirty work or else be called a thief, you’d have me swallow it?” He set his teeth as he finished his inquiry, and kept his eyes fixed on his father’s; but the older man was unmoved. “There’s nobody can force you to do dirty work,” he said, “and if Nancy ’ud want you to do it, then t’ pearl isn’t worth t’ price ’at’s asked for it. But I’d like to think better o’ t’ lass. Her father was a queer ’un, but straight; and if you don’t use t’ file where you should use t’ plane I think you’d smooth things out. If you can’t—well, t’ straight road is t’ only right road. You may sell all you have to buy t’ pearl, but you may neither borrow nor steal. Right’s right, Sundays and week-days and t’ year through.”