"And something varry civilizing, too, parson," answered the squire; "if they hedn't been in t' Methodist chapel, singing and praising God, they 'ud hev been in t' ale-house, drinking and dancing, and varry like quarreling. There's no need to send t' constable to a Methodist rejoicing. I reckon Mary Clough'll hev to marry Ben Craven in t' long run, now." "I think so. Ben is to open the mill again, and to have charge of it for Mary. It seems a likely match." "Yes. I'm varry glad. Things looked black for Ben at one time." "Only we don't know what is bad and what good." "It's a great pity we don't. It 'ud be a varry comfortable thing when affairs seemed a' wrong if some angel would give us a call, and tell us we were a bit mistaken. There's no sense i' letting folks be unhappy, when they might be taking life wi' a bit o' comfort." "But, then, our faith would not be exercised." "I don't much mind about that. I'd far rather hev things settled. I don't like being worritted and unsettled i' my mind." The squire spoke with a touching irritability, and every one looked sadly at him. The day after Antony's frank statement of his plans, the squire rode early into Bradford and went straight to the house of old Simon Whaley. For three generations the Whaleys had been the legal advisers of the Hallams, and Simon had touched the lives or memory of all three. He was a very old man, with a thin, cute face, and many wrinkles on his brow; and though he seldom left his house, age had not dimmed his intellect, or dulled his good-will toward the family with whom he had been so frequently associated. "Why-a! Hallam! Come in, squire; come in, and welcome. Sit thee down, old friend. I'm fain and glad to see thee. What cheer? And whativer brings thee to Bradford so early?" "I'm in real trouble, Whaley." "About some wedding, I'll be bound." "No; neither love nor women folk hev owt to do wi' it. Antony Hallam wants me to break t' entail and give him L50,000." "Save us a'! Is t' lad gone by his senses?" Then the squire repeated, as nearly as possible, all that Antony had said to him; after which both men sat quite still; the lawyer thinking, the squire watching the lawyer. "I'll tell thee what, Hallam, thou hed better give him what he asks. If thou doesn't, he'll get Hallam into bad hands. He has thought o' them, or he would nivver hev spoke o' them; and he'll go to them, rather than not hev his own way. Even if he didn't, just as soon as he was squire, he'd manage it. The Norfolk Hallams, who are next to him, are a poor shiftless crowd, that he'd buy for a song. Now dost thou want to keep Hallam i' thy own flesh and blood? If ta does, I'll tell thee what to do." "That is the dearest, strongest wish I hev; and thou knows it, Whaley." "Then go thy ways home and tell Antony Hallam he can hev L50,000, if he gives up to thee every possible claim on Hallam, and every possible assistance in putting it free in thy hands to sell, or to leave as thou wishes."