"He'll do that fast enough." "Then thou choose a proper husband for thy daughter and settle it upon her. Her husband must take the name o' Hallam; and thy grandchildren by Elizabeth will be as near to thee as they would be by Antony." "Elizabeth has chosen her husband. He is a son of my aunt, Martha Hallam; the daughter of Sibbald Hallam." "What does ta want better? That's famous!" "But he's an American." "Then we must mak' an Englishman o' him. T' Hallams must be kept up. What's his name?" "Fontaine." "It's a varry Frenchified name. I should think he'd be glad to get rid o' it. Where is he now? At Hallam?" "He is in t' Holy Land somewhere." "Is he a parson?" "No, he's a planter; and a bit o' a lawyer, too." "Whativer does he want in t' Holy Land, then?" "He's wi' a Bishop." "Ay? Then he's pious?" "For sure; he's a Methodist." "That's not bad. Squire Gregory was a Methodist. He saved more 'an a bit o' money, and he bought all o' t' low meadows, and built main part o' t' stables, and laid out best half o' t' gardens. There nivver was a better or thriftier holder o' Hallam. Ay, ay, there's a kind o' fellowship between Methodism and money. This Mr. Fontaine will do uncommon well for Hallam, squire, I should think." "If I got Antony to come to thee, Whaley, could ta do owt wi' him, thinks ta?" "I wouldn't try it, squire. It would be breath thrown away. Soon or later thy son Antony will take his own way, no matter where it leads him. Thou hes t' reins i' thy hand now, tak' my advice, and settle this thing while thou hes. It's a deep wound, but it's a clean wound yet; cut off t' limb afore it begins to fester and poison t' whole body. And don't thee quarrel wi' him. He's a man now, and there hes to be a' mak's o' men to do t' world's work. Let Antony be; he'll mebbe be a credit to thee yet." "I don't believe, Whaley, thou understands what a sorrow this is to me." "Don't I? I've got a heart yet, Hallam, though thou'd happen think I've varry little use for it at eighty-nine years old; but I'll tell thee what, instead o' looking at t' troubles thou hes, just tak' a look at them thou hesn't. I nivver gave thee a bit o' advice better worth seven-and-sixpence than that is." "What does ta mean?" "I'll tell thee. Thou's fretting because Antony wants to go into business, and to get hold o' as much gold and honor as iver he can put his hands on. Now suppose he wanted to spend a' t' money he could get hold of, and to drag thy old name through t' mire o' jockey fields and gambling houses, and t' filth that lies at t' month o' hell. Wouldn't that be worse?" "Ay, it would." "And they who hanker after an earldom'll be varry like to pick up some good things on t' road to it. When ta can't mak' t' wind suit thee, turn round and sail wi' t' wind."