Heaven who had granted
his desires.

About three o'clock on the Saturday afternoon he finished the length of
wall. He went home, washed, shaved, put on his Sunday coat; and,
avoiding the kitchen, where his mother sat knitting by the fireside,
strode up to the vicarage.

It was Rosa who opened the door to him. On recognizing him she started,
and he followed her into the dining-room. He seated himself, and began,
brusquely:

'I've coom, Miss Rosa, t' speak t' Mr. Blencarn.'

Then added, eyeing her closely:

'Ye're lookin' sick, lass.'

Her faint smile accentuated the worn, white look on her face.

'I reckon ye've been frettin' yeself,' he continued gently, 'leein'
awake o' nights, hev'n't yee, noo?'

She smiled vaguely.

'Well, but ye see I've coom t' settle t' whole business for ye. Ye
thought mabbe that I was na a man o' my word.'

'No, no, not that,' she protested, 'but--but--'

'But what then?'

'Ye must not do it, Mr. Garstin ... I must just bear my own trouble the
best I can--' she broke out.

'D'ye fancy I'm takin' ye oot of charity? Ye little reckon the sort o'
stuff my love for ye's made of. Nay, Miss Rosa, but ye canna draw back
noo.'

'But ye cannot do it, Mr. Garstin. Ye know your mother will na have me at
Hootsey.... I could na live there with your mother.... I'd sooner bear
my trouble alone, as best I can.... She's that stern is Mrs. Garstin. I
couldn't look her in the face.... I can go away somewhere.... I could
keep it all from uncle.'

Her colour came and went: she stood before him, looking away from him,
dully, out of the window.

'I intend ye t' coom t' Hootsey. I'm na lad: I reckon I can choose my
own wife. Mother'll hev ye at t' farm, right enough: ye need na distress
yeself on that point--'

'Nay, Mr. Garstin, but indeed she will not, never... I know she will
not... She always set herself against me, right from the first.'

'Ay, but that was different. T' case is all changed noo,' he objected
doggedly.

'She'll support the sight of me all the less,' the girl faltered.

'Mother'll hev ye at Hootsey--receive ye willin' of her own free
wish--of her own free wish, d'ye hear? I'll answer for that.'

He struck the table with his fist heavily. His tone of determination
awed her: she glanced at him hurriedly, struggling with her
irresolution.

'I knaw hoo t' manage mother. An' now,' he concluded, changing his tone,
'is yer uncle about t' place?'

'He's up the paddock, I think