"Not a bit. ’Tis the way of man. I’m very doubtful of parson Merle--not as a righteous creature before Heaven; but he’s human, and he’s a terrible narrow thinker here and there. If I take myself off, ’tis so like as not he’ll get some bee in his bonnet and withhold the burial service or maim it over me, like he did when Pritchard hung himself. Not that that would trouble me very greatly; but supposing that he wouldn’t let my bones go beside hers? Such a thing happening would turn me into a wandering ghost till Doom without a doubt." "Don’t give him the chance. Think a very great deal about it," she urged. "You may be all wrong in your opinions, dear Mr. Shillabeer, and right well I know you are. Perhaps, if you was to pray about it to Christ, He’d show you how awful mistaken you was. And as for usefulness, there’s no more useful and well thought on man among us." "I’ve done my duty, and my duty’s done," he said. "Promise me not to do anything till you’ve talked to me again," she urged. "At least you might do that. I knew your wife, and she loved me." "Yes, my wife was very fond of you when you was a child," he said. "I’ll do your bidding that far then. You speak what be put into you to speak, no doubt. Now I look at you, there’s sense as well as sadness in your face. I hope the sense will bide and the sadness lift in God’s good time." The old man departed, and that night Margaret told David of all that she had heard and the condition of Reuben Shillabeer’s mind. He took the matter very seriously and resolved to be busy on the sufferer’s behalf. "I can ill spare the time," he said. "But for a neighbour in such a fix our own affairs must be put aside. I’ll go to doctor at Tavistock to-morrow the first thing. He’s a rare sportsman and a very keen man. ’Twas him that stood referee in the fight. ’Tis time he took the poor old chap in hand; and Shillabeer’s got high respect for him and will trust him I hope, if he goes about his work clever." David was not surprised to hear the secret of the texts. "As a matter of fact amongst a few of us--my father and me and others--’twas an open secret," he said. "Father himself first guessed it. But we didn’t say a word for fear of vexing poor old ’Dumpling.’ ’Twas a harmless thing, and very likely it did good now and again." *CHAPTER X* *THIRD TIME OF ASKING* The circumstances and necessities of Bartley Crocker’s wooing were peculiar, because one-sided. Rhoda naturally never assisted him; indeed, many carefully laid plans for meeting were consciously frustrated by her when she chanced to learn them. At last, however, thanks to Margaret’s aid, opportunity fell for a final proposal, and Bartley used it to the best of his power. A day came when David drove Madge over to Tavistock to look at certain houses, and Rhoda stopped at home.