‘Make-believe, indeed!’ cried Harry, lightly; ‘who plays at being miller and baker?’ ‘Not I!’ denied Oliver hotly. ‘I have taken up my father’s business, which is no unusual thing for a tradesman’s son to do, and I have not adopted it as a mere makeshift, or as the last resource for a man who would otherwise be idle; I desire to make it the object of my life; I do not think any honest trade is unworthy of the dedication of the trader’s talents to render it as good in every respect as possible. I trust to do no discredit to my father’s business.’ ‘At least you need not be so cocky over other people whose fathers had not the luck to be in trade,’ remonstrated Harry. ‘As to not wanting a wife—I being a farmer, and having no competent young woman with my interest at heart,’ went on Harry, his blue eyes twinkling, ‘to look after the butter and cheese, the feeding of the calves, the fattening of the geese, and the multiplying of the eggs and chickens, when I find I have quite enough to do, even with Horry for my _aide_, to manage the labourer fellows in the fields and offices, and attend the markets—if you think I don’t want a wife dreadfully, it is little you know of a yeoman’s difficulties. As to consenting to try for an imitation farmer’s wife, why you yourself politely hinted a minute ago that there was quite enough of the mock article at Copley Grange Farm already. No, thanks. I knew exactly what the position was when Aggie spent her holiday weeks at the Farm. The babe could not have told barley from oats if they had not been in the ear; and though that did not matter much, I am morally certain she was shaky on the important question of hens’ nests—whether they were not to be found in bushes, if not on tree-tops. She spoilt all the dairy produce while she was here, by insisting on dabbling in it in her ignorance, my housekeeper complained. And the child was always begging to be amused, and seeking to go and look at the horses and cattle when it was not convenient and I ought to have been hard at work elsewhere. She would not be put off with Horry’s escort; fact was, all my energies were employed in keeping the peace between the little girl and the cantankerous old man.’ Oliver was forced to laugh, but he laughed harshly. ‘Stanhope, you’re a donkey if you propose to marry my sister, that she may act as your head dairymaid and principal hen-wife. That is not her _forte_,’ he said. ‘Do you mean to insult me?’ cried Harry, firing up in spite of his easy temper. ‘By Jove, you may thank Fan if I bear it. I may have cracked an ill-timed joke, but it was you who tempted me to it. Fan believes me; she understands how I love and honour her, and choose her before all other women; and if she does me the honour to choose me in return, I suppose she is at liberty to make her choice? Not even a Turk of a brother, since he is not her father, and she is of age, can prevent it,’ ended Harry defiantly.