“Speak for yourself, but not for me,” he said, “and not for your brother, Tom, and his mate. Rabbits in a hutch have got to be looked after, I grant, but you mustn’t believe everything you hear—even from Tom Dolbear. Answer this: if you died to-morrow, what would happen at Priory Farm? Why, my dear woman, in six weeks they’d have somebody in your place who looked after the children all her time; and they’d wonder why they never thought of that before. We won’t argue about it, however. When you say ‘duty,’ I’m dumb, of course. But tell me this before we drop the subject: would you marry me if things were otherwise and your sense of duty didn’t come between?” Mrs. Trivett was immensely relieved to find how quietly he had taken his reverse. “Of course I would,” she said. “You’re one of the best, and if it hadn’t been that I’d got to work out my life same as I’m doing, I’d have been glad enough to come to you. People at our time of day have got judgment, if ever they’re going to have it, and in my opinion we should have made a well-matched pair enough. But such good things are not for me. I’ve been happily married once, and can’t expect it again.” He continued to be quite restrained. “I venture to think you’re about as wrong as you can be, Lydia, and your usual good sense has gone astray. But I know duty’s your guiding star, and I’m happy to think duty changes its shape from time to time, like most other human contrivances.” “I’ll always try to do it, my dear man, however it looks.” “You will—that’s why I’m keeping so quiet now, instead of breaking out and making a noise and lowering myself in your opinion. The beauty of a woman like you is that you’re steadfast—a slave, if not a martyr to what you think right. That being so, I take your word for the minute, and leave the rest to Providence.” She was puzzled, but very glad he could be so gentle with her. “You’ve took it like the wise man you are,” she said. “I might have known you would; but I was afraid you wouldn’t.” “I haven’t took it,” he answered. “There are some things you don’t take, and this is one of them. I’ve a great trust in the future, Lydia Trivett. The future, though it plays many people false, have always treated me in a very sportsmanlike and trustworthy manner so far.” “That’s because you make your future just the same as you make your paper, and leave nothing to chance.” “You never spoke a truer word,” he answered. “I’m not going to brag before the event; but if ever I was properly interested in a bit of my future, it’s now; and if I can get the pattern right, and stamp my will and purpose upon it, I dare say you’ll be a good bit surprised yet.” She became uneasy. “Don’t you meddle with fate, however. That’s not our work,” she said. “And what would you be inclined to call ‘fate’?” he asked. “Well,” she answered, “in a manner of speaking, you might call ‘fate’ my dear brother, Tom, and his wife. And I’ll ask you not to touch them, Philander.”