“To Garth?” angrily. “Who said anything about Garth? No, Miss, but when he comes, you’ll stand him off. You know very well how to do it, though you look as if butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth! You’ll see that he keeps his distance. And let me have no tears, or—d——n the fellow, he’s spoiled my nap. There, go! Go! I might as well have a swarm of wasps about me as such folks! Pack o’ fools and idiots! Go into a bank, indeed!” Jos did go, and shutting herself up in her room would not open to Miss Peacock, who came fluttering to the door to learn what was amiss. And she cried a little, but it was as much in humiliation as grief. Her father was holding her on offer, to be given or withheld, as he pleased, while all the time she doubted, and more than doubted, if he to whom she was on offer, he from whom she was withheld, wanted her. There was the rub. For Arthur, ever since he had begun to attend at the bank, had been strangely silent. He had looked and smiled and teased her, had pressed her hand or touched her hair, but in sport rather than in earnest, meaning little. And she had been quick to see this, and with the womanly pride, of which, gentle and timid as she was, she had her share, she had schooled herself to accept the new situation. Now, her father had taken Arthur’s suit for granted and humbled her. So Jos cried a little. But they were not very bitter tears. CHAPTER V Arthur was taken aback by his uncle’s harshness, and he made haste to be at the bank early enough on the Monday to anticipate the banker’s departure for Garth. He was certain that to approach the Squire at this moment in the matter of the railroad was to invite disaster, and he gave Ovington such an account of the quarrel as he thought would deter him from going over at present. But the banker had a belief in himself which success and experience in the management of men had increased. He was convinced that self-interest was the spring which moved nine men out of ten, and though he admitted that the family quarrel was untimely, he did not agree that as between the Squire and a good bargain it would have weight. “But I assure you, sir, he’s like a bear with a sore head,” Arthur urged. “A bear will come to the honey if its head be sore,” the banker answered, smiling. “And perhaps upset the hive?” Ovington laughed. “Not in this case, I think. And we must risk something. Time presses and he blocks the way. However, I’ll let it stand over for a week and then I’ll go alone. We must have your uncle.” Accordingly a week later, discarding the tilbury and smart man-servant that he had lately set up, he rode over to Garth, considering as he journeyed the man whom he was going to meet and of whom, in spite of his self-assurance, he stood in some awe.