one fixed rule of farming, and this was that no modern machinery should be used on his lands.  He was the best employer of labour for many and many a mile round, and the most generous as well as the most exact paymaster, and though people asserted that there was no reasonable explanation for it, nevertheless it annually happened that the hand-sown, hand-reaped crops of Briar Farm were finer and richer in grain and quality, and of much better value than the machine-sown, machine-reaped crops of any other farm in the county or for that matter in the three counties adjoining.  He stood now for a minute or two watching Innocent as she looked carefully over his smock frock to see if there were any buttons missing or anything to be done requiring the services of her quick needle and thread,—­then as she folded it and put it aside on a chair he said with a thrill of compassion in his voice: 

“Poor little child, thou hast eaten no supper!  I saw thee playing with the bread and touching no morsel.  Art not well?”

She looked up at him and tried to smile, but tears came into her eyes despite her efforts to keep them back.

“Dear Dad, I am only anxious,” she murmured, tremulously.  “You, too, have had nothing.  Shall I fetch you a glass of the old wine?  It will do you good.”

He still bent his brows thoughtfully upon her.

“Presently—­presently—­not now,” he answered.  “Come and sit by me at the window and I’ll tell you—­I’ll tell you what you must know.  But see you, child, if you are going to cry or fret, you will be no help to me and I’ll just hold my peace!”

She drew a quick breath, and her face paled.

“I will not cry,” she said,—­“I will not fret.  I promise you, Dad!”

She came close up to him as she spoke.  He took her gently in his arms and kissed her.

“That’s a brave girl!” And holding her by the hand he drew her towards the open window—­“Look out there!  See how the stars shine!  Always the same, no matter what happens to us poor folk down here,—­they twinkle as merrily over our graves as over our gardens,—­and yet if we’re to believe what we’re taught nowadays, they’re all worlds more or less like our own, full of living creatures that suffer and die like ourselves.  It’s a queer plan of the Almighty, to keep on making wonderful and beautiful things just to destroy them!  There seems no sense in it!”

He sat down again in his chair, and she, obeying his gesture, brought a low stool to his feet and settled herself upon it, leaning against his knee.  Her face was upturned to his and the flickering light of the tall candles quivering over it showed the wistful tender watchfulness of its expression—­a look which seemed to trouble him, for he avoided her eyes.

“You want to know what the London doctor said,” he began.  “Well, child, you’ll not be any the better for knowing, but it’s as I thought.  I’ve got my death-warrant.  Slowton was not sure about me,—­but this man, ill as he is himself, has had too much experience to make mistakes.  There’s no cure for me.  I may last out another twelve months—­perhaps not so long—­certainly not longer.”