Suddenly it had been revealed to him, that Stephen Latrigg had found his way into a life he thought wholly his own.  Until that moment of revelation he had liked Stephen; but he liked him no longer.  He felt that Stephen had stolen the privilege he should have asked for, and he deeply resented the position the young man had taken.  On the contrary, Stephen had been guilty of no intentional wrong.  He had simply grown into an affection too sweet to be spoken of, too uncertain and immature to be subjected to the prudential rules of daily life; yet, had the question been plainly put to him, he would have gone at once to the squire, and said, “I love Charlotte, and I ask for your sanction to my love.”  He would have felt such an acknowledgment to be the father’s most sacred and evident right, and he was thinking of making it at the very hour in which Sandal was feeling bitterly toward him for its omission.  And thus the old, old tragedy of mutual misunderstanding works to sorrowful ends.

The night of the sheep-shearing the squire could not sleep.  To lay awake and peer into the future through the dark hours was a new experience, and it made him full of restless anxieties.  Of course he expected Sophia and Charlotte to marry, but not just yet.  He had so far persistently postponed the consideration of this subject, and he was angry at Stephen Latrigg for showing him that further delay might be dangerous to his own plans.

“A presumptuous young coxcomb,” he muttered.  “Does he think that being ‘top-shearer’ gives him a right to make love to Charlotte Sandal?”

In the morning he wrote the following letter:—­

NEPHEW JULIUS SANDAL,—­I hear you are at Oxford, and I should think you would wish to make the acquaintance of your nearest relatives.  They will be glad to see you at Seat-Sandal during the vacation, if your liking leads you that way.  To hear soon from you is the hope of your affectionate uncle,

     WILLIAM SANDAL, of Sandal-Side.

He finished the autograph with a broad flourish, and handed the paper to his wife.  “What do you think of that, Alice?  Eh?  What?”

There was a short silence, then Mrs. Sandal laid the note upon the table.  “I don’t think over much of it, William.  Good-fortune won’t bear hurrying.  Can’t you wait till events ripen naturally?”

“And have all my plans put out of the way?”

“Are you sure that your plans are the best plans?”

“They will be a bit better than any Charlotte and Stephen Latrigg have made.”

“I don’t believe they have such a thing as a plan between them.  But if you think so, send Charlotte to her aunt Lockerby for a few months.  Love is just like fire:  it goes out if it hasn’t fuel.”

“Nay, I want Charlotte here.  After our Harry, Julius is the next heir, and I’m set on him marrying one of the girls.  If he doesn’t like Sophia he may like Charlotte.  I have two chances then, and I’m not going to throw one away for Steve Latrigg’s liking or loving.  Don’t you see, Alice?  Eh?  What?”