’Here you are then; take him in, and tell them I want some tea; say I have friends with me.’

The child was carried away, roaring obstreperously, and Dagworthy, laughing at the vocal power displayed, led the way round to the back of the house.  Here had been constructed elaborate kennels; several dogs were pacing in freedom about the clean yard, and many more were chained up.  Much information was imparted to the visitors concerning the more notable animals; some had taken prizes at shows, others were warranted to do so, one or two had been purchased at fancy prices.  Mr. Hood now and then put a question, as in duty bound to do; Emily restricted her speech to the absolutely necessary replies.

Dagworthy conducted them into the house.  It appeared to be furnished in a solid, old-fashioned way, and the ornaments, though few, were such as might better have been dispensed with.  Old Dagworthy had come to live here some five-and-twenty years previously, having before that occupied a small house in conjunction with his mill.  He had been one of the ‘worthies’ of Dunfield, and in his time did a good deal of useful work for the town.  Personally, he was anything but amiable, being devoid of education and refinement, and priding himself on his spirit of independence, which exhibited itself in mere boorishness.  Though anything but miserly, he had, where his interests were concerned, an extraordinary cunning and pertinacity; he was universally regarded as one of the shrewdest men of business in that part of Yorkshire, and report credited him with any number of remarkable meannesses.  It was popularly said that ‘owd Dick Dagworthy’ would shrink from no dirty trick to turn a sixpence, but was as likely as not to give it away as soon as he had got it.  His son had doubtless advanced the character of the stock, and, putting aside the breeding of dogs, possessed many tastes of which the old man had no notion; none the less, he was credited with not a little of his father’s spirit in business.  In practical affairs he was shrewd and active; he never—­as poor Hood might have testified—­paid a man in his employ a penny more than there was need, and fell far short of the departed Dagworthy’s generosity; to be at his mercy in a pecuniary transaction was to expect and to receive none.  For all that, there was something in the man which hinted at qualities beneath the surface; a glance, a tone, now and then, which seemed on the point of revealing a hidden humanity.

When he chose, he could be courteous; he was so at present, as he requested Emily and her father to seat themselves in a large homely room which looked out upon the garden.  The woman who had carried the child reappeared and poured out cups of tea.  When she had left the room—­

‘I must ask you to excuse the roughness of my establishment, Miss Hood,’ he said.  ’I have to make shift for the resent with Mrs. Jenkins.  She isn’t as refined as she might e, but she’s been with us here for more than twelve years, and I should be sorry to replace her with any other servant.’