thers,
by the time she was one-and-twenty?

Hereupon, I felt that after all my mother had common sense on her side;
for if Master Snowe's farm should be for sale, it would be far more to
the purpose than my coat of arms, to get it; for there was a different
pasture there, just suited for change of diet to our sheep as well
as large cattle. And beside this, even with all Annie's skill (and of
course yet more now she was gone), their butter would always command in
the market from one to three farthings a pound more than we could get
for ours. And few things vexed us more than this. Whereas, if we got
possession of the farm, we might, without breach of the market-laws, or
any harm done to any one (the price being but a prejudice), sell all our
butter as Snowe butter, and do good to all our customers.

Thinking thus, yet remembering that Farmer Nicholas might hold out for
another score of years--as I heartily hoped he might--or that one, if
not all, of his comely daughters might marry a good young farmer (or
farmers, if the case were so)--or that, even without that, the farm
might never be put up for sale; I begged my Lorna to do as she liked; or
rather to wait and think of it; for as yet she could do nothing.

[Illustration: 685.jpg Tailpiece]

CHAPTER LXXIV

BLOOD UPON THE ALTAR

[Illustration: 686.jpg Entrance to Oare Church]

Everything was settled smoothly, and without any fear or fuss, that
Lorna might find end of troubles, and myself of eager waiting, with
the help of Parson Bowden, and the good wishes of two counties. I could
scarce believe my fortune, when I looked upon her beauty, gentleness,
and sweetness, mingled with enough of humour and warm woman's feeling,
never to be dull or tiring; never themselves to be weary.

For she might be called a woman now; although a very young one, and as
full of playful ways, or perhaps I may say ten times as full, as if she
had known no trouble. To wit, the spirit of bright childhood, having
been so curbed and straitened, ere its time was over, now broke forth,
enriched and varied with the garb of conscious maidenhood. And the sense
of steadfast love, and eager love enfolding her, coloured with so many
tinges all her looks, and words, and thoughts, that to me it was the
noblest vision even to think about her.

But this was far too bright to last, without bitter break, and the
plunging of happiness in horror, and of passionate joy in agony. My
darling in her sof