man in Cornwall."

"Fancy," Jenny mocked.

And round the dark farmhouse the winter storms howled and roared,
beating against the windows and ravening by the latches.

Chapter XLVI: _May Morning_

Young Frank had always been from his birth an excitement; but as he
neared, reached and passed his eighteenth month, the geometrical
progression of his personality far exceeded the mere arithmetical
progression of his age. He could now salute with smiles those whom he
loved, was empurpled by rage at any repression, and was able to crawl
about with a blusterous energy that seemed inspired by the equinoctial
gales of March. Jenny's fingers would dive into his mouth to discover
teeth that were indeed pearls in their whiteness and rarity. Exquisite
adumbrations of herself were traceable in his countenance, and so far,
at any rate, his hair was curled and silvery as hers was once famed to
be. His cheeks were rose-fired; his eyes were deep and gay. Only his
ears seemed, whatever way they were judged, to follow his father's
shape; but even they at present merely gave him a pleasant elfin look.
Jenny was very proud of young Frank.

Trewhella, with the lapse of time, and after another violent outbreak on
account of the arrival of a letter from Castleton, ceased to importune
his wife with jealous denunciations of the old glittering days before
they met. The farm prospered: he took to counting his money more than
ever since an heir had given him a pledge for the commemoration of his
thrift. During the winter Jenny drove once or twice in the high cart to
Camston, and, with May to help her, scornfully turned out the contents
of the drapery shops. On these occasions Granfa was made responsible for
young Frank, and when they came back he had to give a very full account
of his regency. Other winter events included a visit from Mr. Corin, who
had opened a dairy away up in the east of the Duchy. He annoyed Jenny
by his exaggerated congratulations, embracing as they did himself as
much as Zachary and her. Mrs. Trewhella would from time to time announce
her surrender of the household keys; but Jenny was not anxious to
control anything except her son, and the old woman, manifestly pleased,
continued to superintend with blink and cackle maid Emily. Jenny lost
her fear of bullocks, dreaded insects no longer, and might have been a
Cornish maid all her life, save for her clear-cut Cockney, to which not
a single western burr adhered. She n