"Yes, only the little children really believe in us," confessed Mr. Bamsey; "and that's why I say we squander a good bit of wisdom upon the rising race, for they'll go on rising, for good or evil, without much troubling their heads as to whether we approve, or don't. They put education before experience, so, of course, what we've got to offer don't appeal to 'em. But Dinah--she does heed me, and now there's come a shadow of a suspicion in my mind about another man for her. That's why I'm so content to mark time a little and get hard words for doing it. She don't know herself, I believe, and very like the man don't know yet. Or he may know, and be biding his time. But more than once or twice--more, in fact, than she guesses--Dinah, when she's been talking to me, have named a certain person. I very near warned her against it, for women's ears are quicker than ours, and if Jane and my wife had marked it, evil might have risen out of it at once. But Dinah says a lot more in my hearing than in theirs and they don't know so far. And, as I tell you, Dinah herself don't know. But the name echoes along. In a word, what do you think of Maynard at Falcon Farm? You know him better than I do, though the little I've seen of the man leads me to like him. He's a sensible soul and none too cheerful--rather a twilight sort of man you might say; but that's a way life have with some of the thinking sort. It turns 'em into their shells a bit." "He's a kindly, well-meaning chap and old for his years," said Withycombe. "I should say he's not for a wife." "How d'you know?" "I don't know. We never talk about himself, nor yet myself. He gives me his company sometimes and we tell about pretty high matters, not people. He's got a mind, Ben." Melinda Honeysett joined them at this moment and entered their conversation. "He's got a mind, no doubt," said Mr. Bamsey. "But he's also got a body, and it would be unnatural in a young, hearty man of his years, prosperous too I suppose, because, with his sense, he's sure to have put by a bit--it would be unnatural, I say, if he'd never turned his thoughts to a home of his own." Enoch spoke to his daughter. "Here's Ben trying to hatch up a match for Dinah," he said. "No, no--too wise, I'm sure," answered Melinda. "Far too wise," declared the visitor. "But if such a thing was possible in fulness of time, it would cut a good many knots, Melindy." "Dinah likes freedom now she's got it, I believe, and I wouldn't say she was too fond of children neither," answered Enoch's daughter. "They never like children, till they meet the man they can see as father of their own children," answered Ben; "and if Dinah ever said she didn't want 'em, that's only another proof that she never loved poor John." "The love of childer be knit up with other things no doubt," admitted Enoch. "There's lots love childer as never had none, like myself," answered Melinda.