Therefore at her own entreaty taking a very quick adieu, and by her own invitation an exceeding kind one, I hurried home with deep exulting, yet some sad misgivings, for Lorna had made me promise now to tell my mother everything; as indeed I always meant to do, when my suit should be gone too far to stop.  I knew, of course, that my dear mother would be greatly moved and vexed, the heirship of Glen Doone not being a very desirable dower, but in spite of that, and all disappointment as to little Ruth Huckaback, feeling my mother’s tenderness and deep affection to me, and forgiving nature, I doubted not that before very long she would view the matter as I did.  Moreover, I felt that if once I could get her only to look at Lorna, she would so love and glory in her, that I should obtain all praise and thanks, perchance without deserving them.

Unluckily for my designs, who should be sitting down at breakfast with my mother and the rest but Squire Faggus, as everybody now began to entitle him.  I noticed something odd about him, something uncomfortable in his manner, and a lack of that ease and humour which had been wont to distinguish him.  He took his breakfast as it came, without a single joke about it, or preference of this to that; but with sly soft looks at Annie, who seemed unable to sit quiet, or to look at any one steadfastly.  I feared in my heart what was coming on, and felt truly sorry for poor mother.  After breakfast it became my duty to see to the ploughing of a barley-stubble ready for the sowing of a French grass, and I asked Tom Faggus to come with me, but he refused, and I knew the reason.  Being resolved to allow him fair field to himself, though with great displeasure that a man of such illegal repute should marry into our family, which had always been counted so honest, I carried my dinner upon my back, and spent the whole day with the furrows.

When I returned, Squire Faggus was gone; which appeared to me but a sorry sign, inasmuch as if mother had taken kindly to him and his intentions, she would surely have made him remain awhile to celebrate the occasion.  And presently no doubt was left:  for Lizzie came running to meet me, at the bottom of the woodrick, and cried,—­

“Oh, John, there is such a business.  Mother is in such a state of mind, and Annie crying her eyes out.  What do you think?  You would never guess, though I have suspected it, ever so long.”

“No need for me to guess,” I replied, as though with some indifference, because of her self-important air; “I knew all about it long ago.  You have not been crying much, I see.  I should like you better if you had.”

“Why should I cry?  I like Tom Faggus.  He is the only one I ever see with the spirit of a man.”