"The lass is bonny
and, so far as I ken, weel-meaning and kind; but she has been badly browt
up at an extravagant hoose. She'll not can help her husband, except
mayhappen to waste, and she has niver learned to work and gan withoot.
Weel, it seems we are agreed. Miss Osborn is no the lass I would welcome
for my son's wife."

Osborn looked at him with frank surprise. Then he said, "We'll make an
end," and turned to Kit. "If you speak to my daughter again, she will be
forbidden to leave the Tarnside grounds; if you write to her, your
letter will be burned. She cannot resist my control for the next three or
four years. There's nothing more to be said."

He went out and Peter, who walked to the porch with him, came back and
looked quietly at Kit.

"A proud and foolish man, but he's hit hard!" he said. "Mayhappen it
will hurt, my lad, but you must be done wi' this. Osborn's daughter is
none for you."

Kit looked straight in front, with his hands clenched. "So it seems, for
some years. It does hurt. I cannot give her up."

Peter lighted his pipe and there was silence for a few minutes. Then as
Kit did not move he remarked: "I ken something o' what you're feeling; aw
t' same you've got to fratch. There's nowt against the lass except that
she's Osborn's child, but she's none o' our kind and it's sense and
custom that like gans to like."

"It would be easier if I could get away. I can't stop in the dale,
knowing she's about and I mustn't see her."

Peter went into the next room and opened an old desk. He had for some
time expected that the moment he now shrank from would come and his heart
was sore, but he knew his son's steadfast character and meant to save him
pain. Going back he gave Kit his brother's last letter.

"Mayhappen it's better that you should gan," he said quietly.

Kit read the letter and looked up with a strained expression. "I never
thought I'd want to leave Ashness and I feel a selfish brute! All the
same it would be a relief."

"Just that!" said Peter. "I'll miss you when you've gone, but it's no'
my part to stand in your way. We'll write Adam to-morrow and tell him
you'll come."

Kit crossed the floor and put his hand on his father's arm. "Thanks;
I think I know what this means to you. It will cost me something; but
I must go."

He went out and Peter sat still, looking gloomily at the fire. He felt
old and knew he would be very lonely soon. The fire burned low and the
kitchen got cold, but Kit