“Mas’ Gammon’s a rare old man,” said the farmer, emphatically.

“So I say.  Else, how would you see so many farms flourishing!”

“Come, Robert:  you hit th’ old man hard; you should learn to forgive.”

“So I do, and a telling blow’s a man’s best road to charity.  I’d forgive the squire and many another, if I had them within two feet of my fist.”

“Do you forgive my girl Rhoda for putting of you off?”

Robert screwed in his cheek.

“Well, yes, I do,” he said.  “Only it makes me feel thirsty, that’s all.”

The farmer remembered this when they had entered the farm.

“Our beer’s so poor, Robert,” he made apology; “but Rhoda shall get you some for you to try, if you like.  Rhoda, Robert’s solemn thirsty.”

“Shall I?” said Rhoda, and she stood awaiting his bidding.

“I’m not a thirsty subject,” replied Robert.  “You know I’ve avoided drink of any kind since I set foot on this floor.  But when I drink,” he pitched his voice to a hard, sparkling heartiness, “I drink a lot, and the stuff must be strong.  I’m very much obliged to you, Miss Rhoda, for what you’re so kind as to offer to satisfy my thirst, and you can’t give better, and don’t suppose that I’m complaining; but your father’s right, it is rather weak, and wouldn’t break the tooth of my thirst if I drank at it till Gammon left off thinking about his dinner.”

With that he announced his approaching departure.

The farmer dropped into his fireside chair, dumb and spiritless.  A shadow was over the house, and the inhabitants moved about their domestic occupations silent as things that feel the thunder-cloud.  Before sunset Robert was gone on his long walk to the station, and Rhoda felt a woman’s great envy of the liberty of a man, who has not, if it pleases him not, to sit and eat grief among familiar images, in a home that furnishes its altar-flame.

CHAPTER XVI

Fairly, Lord Elling’s seat in Hampshire, lay over the Warbeach river; a white mansion among great oaks, in view of the summer sails and winter masts of the yachting squadron.  The house was ruled, during the congregation of the Christmas guests, by charming Mrs. Lovell, who relieved the invalid Lady of the house of the many serious cares attending the reception of visitors, and did it all with ease.  Under her sovereignty the place was delightful, and if it was by repute pleasanter to young men than to any other class, it will be admitted that she satisfied those who are loudest in giving tongue to praise.