Unconsciously the young man's voice took a sharp, magisterial note. Reuben gave another long sigh. He was now leaning on his stick, staring at the floor. 'Noa,--a' know yo doan't understan; a've got to tell tha--'at's t' worst part on 't. An I'm soa bad at tellin. Do yo mind when yor feyther deed, Davy?' he said suddenly, looking up. David nodded,--a red flush of presentiment spread itself over his face--his whole being hung on Reuben's words. 'He sent for me afore he deed,' continued Reuben, slowly; 'an he towd me aw about his affairs. Six hunderd pund he'd got saved--_six-hunderd-pund!_ Aye, it wor a lot for a yoong mon like him, and after sich a peck o' troobles! And he towd me Mr. Gurney ud pay us th' interest for yor bringin-up--th' two on yo; an whan yo got big, Davy, I wor to tak keawnsel wi Mr. Gurney, an, if yo chose for t' land, yo were to ha yor money for a farm, when yo wor big eneuf, an if yo turned agen th' land, yo wor to be 'prenticed to soom trade, an ha yor money when yo wanted it,--Mr. Gurney bein willin. An I promised him I'd deal honest wi his childer, an--' Reuben paused painfully. He was wrestling with his conscience, and groping for words about his wife. The brother and sister sat open-mouthed, pale with excitement, afraid of losing a single syllable. 'An takkin it awthegither,' he said, bringing each word out with an effort, 'I doan't think, by t' Lord's mercy, as I've gone soa mich astray, though I ha been mich troobled this four year wi thowts o' Sandy--my brither Sandy--an wi not knowin wheer yo wor gone, Davy. Bit yo seem coom to an honest trade--an Louie theer ha larnt a trade too,--an addle't a bit money,--an she's a fine-grown lass--' He turned a slow, searching look upon her, as though he were pleading a cause before some unseen judge. 'An theer's yor money, Davy. It's aw th' same, a'm thinkin, whether yo get it fro me or fro Mr. Gurney. An here--' He rose, and unbuttoning his inner coat, fumbled in the pocket of it till he found a letter. 'An here is a letter for Mr. Gurney. If yo gie me a pen, Davy, I'll write in to 't yor reet address, an put it in t' post as I goo to t' station. I took noatice of a box as I coom along. An then--' He stood still a moment pondering, one outspread hand on the letter. 'An then theer's nowt moor as a can remember,--an your aunt ull be wearyin; an it's but reet she should know now, at wonst, abeawt t' money a've saved this four year, an t' letter to Mr. Gurney. Yo understan--when yor letter came this mornin--t'mon browt it up to Louie abeawt eight o'clock--she towd me fust out i' th' yard--an I said to her, 'Doan't you tell yor aunt nowt abeawt it, an we'st meet at t' station.' An I made soom excuse to Hannah abeawt gooin ower t' Scout after soom beeasts--an--an--Louie an me coom thegither.' He passed his other hand painfully across his brow. The travail of expression, the moral struggle of the last twenty-four hours, seemed to have aged him before them.