’I know I shall. When Taverner sloked that spider away he carried off my health, and I were took with the stroke immediately. I’ve not been myself since.’ He continued rubbing his chin. ’And now comes this mortgage, and you laid up in bed as you never was before. It all comes o’ sloking away the spider.’ ’Father,’ said Larry earnestly, but timorously: ’I wish you would let me bring another here.’ ’Another what?’ ’Red Spider.’ ’What do you mean?’ ’Honor Luxmore.’ The old man looked puzzled, then gradually an idea of his son’s meaning crept into his head. ’I thought,’ said he slowly, ’I thought it was t’other maid.’ ’No, dear father, I love Honor. Let me bring her here, let her be nay wife, and I’m sure she will bring luck to this house.’ Hillary senior continued rubbing his chin. ’Her mayn’t have money,’ he mused, ’but her’s good up and down the backbone; as a money-spinner is all redness and naught else, so is Honor all goodness and not a speck of black in her.’ ’It is so indeed, father.’ ’I’m better pleased than if it were Kate.’ ’I never really thought of Kate.’ ’Well, you was sly about it then. All folks said that Kate had stolen your fancy. Well now. Honor mayn’t be a money-bringer, I reckon she’s got nothing—Oliver be poor as rushy land—but she may spin it. There’s no saying.’ ’Say yes, father.’ ’Her’s a red spider that Taverner won’t try to sloke away,’ chuckled old Nanspian. Then he continued musing. He was an altered man of late, not ready with his thoughts, quick of motion, lively of tongue as before. He took time to come to a decision, and drifted in his ideas from one matter to another. ’Things haven’t gone quite right since Blandina died, they haven’t—though I don’t allow that to others. I’ve had five years of wool heamed (laid) up. I said I’d not sell with wool so low, and it has been sorry down ever since, and now it’s risen a penny and I tried to sell—the worm is in it and the staple is spoiled, and it won’t fetch any price. Then there be the maidens. They’ve let the thunder get into the milk and turn it sour, and wasted the Lord knows how much butter, because they were lazy and wouldn’t leave their beds in time at five o’clock, and make before the sun is hot. If you’d a good wife, her’d mend all that. And Honor! well, no one has other than a good word for her. I’m main pleased wi’ your choice, Larry. Yes, I be.’ ’Oh, father! Thank you! thank you!’