"Opinions vary. You make me willing to leave my home, though it be not mine, nor thine neither, father, but that of sister Julian, who stuffs my pillow with thorns and the seats of her chairs with nettles. I would be away at any price, and if I can go to Hall and live there with Squire Cleverdon, I doubt not I shall be more content than I be here." "You will live there?" said his father. "No doubt. Master Cleverdon has ever had his daughter Elizabeth with him. He might have sent her packing, as he sent his own sister packing, when he needed her no more, and that would have been when Anthony brought home a wife to his taste. As he has not--if Julian still persists in declining to be my mother-in-law--why, I reckon that Bess will remain at Hall. A man must leave father and mother and cleave to his wife--so it will be scriptural, and that should content thee, father." The old man drew forth his 'kerchief and wiped his face. "I suppose, father," continued Fox, "that you will hardly let me go penniless out of the house? That would be a pretty comment on your professions. You must have saved something, and there is that little scrap of land still ours in Buckland----" Mr. Crymes again wiped his face. He did not know what answer to make. "Or, is the fashion set by Squire Cleverdon of cutting his son off without a shilling infectious, that my father has taken it, and will follow suit, and sicken into the same green infirmity?" "No," said Mr. Crymes, "I will do what is right; but you spring this on me, I am taken aback----" "I did not spring it on you. That is one of the many kindnesses I have received from Jule." "I do not know what to say. You must give me time to consider. This journey to London has cost me a considerable sum of money." "There comes the usual excuse for shirking out of a money obligation which cannot be enforced by law. Say on, father--the times have been bad, the hay was black with rain, the corn did not kern well, the mottled cow dropped her calf, the tenants have not paid, and so my poor boy gets nothing but advice in bushels and exhortations in yards." "Having insulted your sister, now you throw your jibes at me. That is not encouraging to me to deal handsomely towards you." "I did not think, father, that you needed to be coaxed and caressed to do an act of justice." "I do not ask that of thee, but I must consider. It ill pleases me that you should have thought of Bessie Cleverdon." "If I had chosen some worthless wench without a penny to bless herself withal, you would have shaken the head and broken the staff over me. Now that I have chosen one who is in all ways unexceptional, who is a wealthy heiress of irreproachable manners of life, the favourite of everybody, a dutiful daughter, it is all the same--you disapprove. Is there aught I could do--any change that I could make--that would give thee pleasure?" "None--till I saw there was an amendment in thyself."