"That sort don’t mend. But they’ve a terrible power to mar--like one rotten apple will soon spoil a bushel. And if Dorcas grumbles to you about it, as she will, because you’re the sort that hears all the trouble of the world, then you mind and talk sense to her. I’m a reasonable man and I wouldn’t say ’no’ to a hedge-tacker so long as he’s honest; but William Screech don’t have no child of mine." The subject changed and Sarah spoke of all that David’s departure meant to her. "Can’t see the place without him for tears," she said. "’Tis weak, but they will flow every time I say to myself ’one day less.’ You see, it ban’t as if we was all here, then I’d say nought. But Sophia, though she went, was soon back again; and let faither say what he pleases about Joshua, Joshua can’t stand to work day and night like David, and Dorcas won’t look after the dogs like Rhoda. ’Tis a great upheaval, look at it which way you will. If my son Drake had only been spared, of course all things would have fallen out differently." "Yes," admitted Elias; "and if the moon had only been made of green cheese--us should always have had plenty of maggots for fishing." Upon this great aphorism Margaret Stanbury took her leave; and Dorcas, who had been waiting for her, now approached in a mood neither lightsome nor joyous. "I’ve got the headache," she said. "I’ve been crying my eyes out for a fortnight and I wish I was dead." "Dorcas!" "’Tis all along of Billy Screech--cruel and wicked I call it. But us will be upsides with father and mother yet. Why for shouldn’t I marry the man if I love him? Such a clever man as he is--full of ideas and quite as able to make a living, I’m sure, as anybody else. And I want for your mother to ax him to the wedding, Madge--just to pay father out. If he sees Billy there his pleasure will be spoilt--and sarve him right--the cruel old man!" "Don’t feel so savage about it. Bide your time and tell Billy to stand to work and get regular wages and make Mr. Bowden respect him. I’ve often heard Bart say that Mr. Screech is wonnerful clever in all sorts of queer ways, and ’tis only the poaching makes your father angry, I expect." "He’s given all that up long ago. Will you ax him to your wedding?" "I can’t, Dorcas. Mr. Bowden has just expressly forbidden it. I’m very, very sorry. Perhaps after I’m married I shall be able to help you; but it rests with Billy." "I’ll marry him," said Dorcas. "And not a thousand fathers shall stop it; and I’ll tell you another thing: it won’t be long afore I do. Just you wait and see." *CHAPTER IV* *THE WEDDING* "’Tis the difference in our natures," said David Bowden’s mother. "Some folk haven’t never ended their work, and some don’t never begin theirs. I’ve known men and women--as thought they were busy people too--who died without ever tasting what I call a day’s work."