"True, my dear. There's lots love game as never shot it. But the snipe you brought down yourself be always the one that tastes best. A mother may love her own children, or she may not; but it depends often enough on the husband." It was Mrs. Honeysett's father who spoke. "There's some child-lovers who only wed because that's the way to get 'em," he continued. "Such women don't think no more of the husband than the doctor--I've known such. But perfect love of childer did ought to begin with the perfect love of the man that got 'em. Take me. I had but three, but they were the apple of my wife's eye, because they was mine as well as hers." "My brother, Robert, be coming home presently," said Melinda. "My sailor brother, Mr. Bamsey. How would you like him for Dinah? I'm sure she'd make a proper wife for him. He's like Jerry, only quicker in the uptake. But not so clever as father." "Wouldn't like Dinah to marry a sailor man," confessed Ben. "I know Robert is a fine chap; but they've got a wife in every port. A sailor sees a lot more than the wonders of the deep." Mr. Withycombe laughed. "He ain't that sort, I promise you," he said. "The point is, in strictest confidence, Melindy," explained Ben, "that I believe, though she scarce knows it herself, Dinah's interested in the Falcon Farm cowman. She's seen him off and on and, in my ear alone, speaks of the man. And your father here has nought but good to say of him." "He's not for a wife, so Joe tells me. He was naming him a bit agone," answered Melinda, "and he said that the most comforting thing about him, and Mr. Palk also, was that they were cut out for the bachelor state for evermore. Perhaps you'd best to name that to Dinah. Though, for my part, I should hope it would be years after her last adventure afore she ever dared to think upon a man again." "So it would be--so it would be in the course of nature," granted Ben. "No doubt you're right; and yet--there it is. He seems to attract her--against her own reason I dare say." "When that happens, it means love," declared Enoch. Melinda spoke like a woman. She was fond of Dinah, but had been exceedingly sorry for Johnny. "Queer--sure enough," she said. "If Dinah, now, was to feel drawn to a man as hadn't any use for her, it would be fair justice in a manner of speaking, wouldn't it, Mr. Bamsey?" "In a manner of speaking I dare say it might, Melindy," he admitted. "But I'll not hear Dinah tongue-handled over that no more." "I'll sound Lawrence on his next visit," promised Enoch. "But he's very shy where his own affairs are concerned." "And another thing be certain," added Melinda, "Joe Stockman would be terrible put about if he thought any such doings as that was in the wind." Then Mr. Bamsey went his way, as doubtful as when he came. CHAPTER XVI SUNDAY