"But she did talk with 'em and you did think twice? And you didn't like it? And you quarrelled -eh? And that was the sense in you--the sense trying to lift you above the blind instinct you'd got for her. Would you have quarrelled for nothing? Are you that sort? Too fond of taking affronts and offering the other cheek, you are--like I was once. You can't blind me. You've suffered at her hands already, and spoken, and this is her slap back at you. No need to drag me in at all then; though I did give her raw sense for her dinner when she came to see me. Look further on than your father for the meaning of this letter. Look to yourself first, and if that don't throw light, look afield." "There's none--none more than another--I'll swear it." "Seek a man with money and with a face like a barber's image and not over-much sense. That's the sort will win her; and that's the sort will suit her. And now I've done." They walked together and said the same things over and over again, as people are prone to do in argument. Then they separated in heat, for the father lost patience and again declared his pleasure at this accident. Whereon Mark cried out against him for a callous and brutal spirit, and so left him, and turned blindly homeward. He did not know what to do or how to fight this great tribulation. He could not believe it. He came back to Hawk House at last and found himself in an angle of the dwelling, out of the wind. Here reigned artificial silence and peace. The great gale roared overhead; but beneath, in this nook, not a straw stirred. He stood and stared at his fallen hopes and ruined plans; while from a dry spot beside the wall, there came to him the sweet, sleepy chirruping of chickens that cuddled together under their mother's wings. CHAPTER XIV While the desolation of Mark Baskerville came to be learnt, and some sympathised with him and some held that Cora Lintern had showed a very proper spirit to refuse a man cursed with such a father, lesser trouble haunted Cadworthy Farm, for the parent of Rupert Baskerville declared himself to be suffering from a great grievance. Vivian was an obstinate man and would not yield to his son's demand; but the situation rapidly reached a climax, for Rupert would not yield either. Night was the farmer's time for long discussions with his wife; and there came a moment when he faced the present crisis with her and strove for some solution of the difficulty. "Unray yourself and turn out the light and come to bed," he said to Mrs. Baskerville. He already lay in their great four-poster, and, solid though the monster was, it creaked when Vivian's immense bulk turned upon it. His wife soon joined him and then he began to talk. He prided himself especially on his reasonableness, after the fashion of unreasonable men.