ustry as his capital and experience enabled him to use, he did his
part towards the production of next year's crop; and after that he
must leave it to a higher Power to give to him, or to withhold from
him, the reward of his labour. He had found that, as a rule, the
reward had been given when the labour had been honest; and he was now
prepared to follow the same plan, with the same hopes, in this matter
of his love-making.

After much consideration,--very much consideration, a consideration
which took him the whole time that he was brushing his hair and
washing his teeth,--he resolved that he would, in the first instance,
speak to Mr. Amedroz. Not that he intended that the father should win
the daughter for him. He had an idea that he would like to do that
work for himself. But he thought that the old squire would be better
pleased if his consent were asked in the first instance. The present
day was Sunday, and he would not speak on the subject till Monday.
This day he would devote to the work of securing his future
father-in-law's good opinion; to that,--and to his prayers.

And he had gained very much upon Mr. Amedroz before the evening
of the day was over. He was a man before whom difficulties seemed
to yield, and who had his own way simply because he had become
accustomed to ask for it,--to ask for it and to work for it. He had
so softened the squire's tone of thought towards him, that the future
stocking of the land was spoken of between them with something like
energy on both sides; and Mr. Amedroz had given his consent, without
any difficulty, to the building of a shed for winter stall-feeding.
Clara sat by listening, and perceived that Will Belton would soon be
allowed to do just what he pleased with the place. Her father talked
as she had not heard him talk since her poor brother's death, and
was quite animated on the subject of woodcraft. "We don't know much
about timber down where I am," said Will, "just because we've got no
trees."

"I'll show you your way," said the old man. "I've managed the timber
on the estate myself for the last forty years." Will Belton of course
did not say a word as to the gross mismanagement which had been
apparent even to him. What a cousin he was! Clara thought,--what a
paragon among cousins! And then he was so manifestly safe against
love-making! So safe, that he only cared to talk about timber, and
oxen, and fences, and winter-forage! But it was all just as it ought
to be; a