bit too much! the farmer added
grimly.

"Then you refuse me, farmer," said Richard. "I must look to you for
keeping her away from me, not to--to--these people. You will not have
her back, though I tell you I love her better than my life?"

Farmer Blaize now had to answer him plainly, he had a reason and an
objection of his own. And it was, that her character was at stake, and
God knew whether she herself might not be in danger. He spoke with a
kindly candour, not without dignity. He complimented Richard personally,
but young people were young people; baronets' sons were not in the habit
of marrying farmers' nieces.

At first the son of a System did not comprehend him. When he did, he
said: "Farmer! if I give you my word of honour, as I hope for heaven, to
marry her when I am of age, will you have her back?"

He was so fervid that, to quiet him, the farmer only shook his head
doubtfully at the bars of the grate, and let his chest fall slowly.
Richard caught what seemed to him a glimpse of encouragement in these
signs, and observed: "It's not because you object to me, Mr. Blaize?"

The farmer signified it was not that.

"It's because my father is against me," Richard went on, and undertook
to show that love was so sacred a matter that no father could entirely
and for ever resist his son's inclinations. Argument being a cool field
where the farmer could meet and match him, the young man got on the
tramroad of his passion, and went ahead. He drew pictures of Lucy, of
her truth, and his own. He took leaps from life to death, from death to
life, mixing imprecations and prayers in a torrent. Perhaps he did move
the stolid old Englishman a little, he was so vehement, and made so
visible a sacrifice of his pride.

Farmer Blaize tried to pacify him, but it was useless. His jewel he must
have.

The farmer stretched out his hand for the pipe that allayeth
botheration. "May smoke heer now," he said. "Not when--somebody's
present. Smoke in the kitchen then. Don't mind smell?"

Richard nodded, and watched the operations while the farmer filled, and
lighted, and began to puff, as if his fate hung on them.

"Who'd a' thought, when you sat over there once, of its comin' to this?"
ejaculated the farmer, drawing ease and reflection from tobacco. "You
didn't think much of her that day, young gentleman! I introduced ye.
Well! things comes about. Can't you wait till she returns in due course,
now?"

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