ere, or somebody, made mention of--how she manages to dress as she
do! I can understand a little goin' a great way, if you're clever in
any way; but I'm at my tea"--Anthony laid his hand out as to exhibit a
picture. "I ain't a complaining man, and be young, if you can, I say,
and walk about and look at shops; but, I'm at my tea: I come home rather
tired there's the tea-things, sure enough, and tea's made, and, maybe,
there's a shrimp or two; she attends to your creature comforts. When
everything's locked up and tight and right, I'm gay, and ask for a bit
of society: well, I'm at my tea: I hear her foot thumping up and down
her bed-room overhead: I know the meaning of that: I'd rather hear
nothing: down she runs: I'm at my tea, and in she bursts."--Here
followed a dramatic account of Dahlia's manner of provocation, which was
closed by the extinction of his pipe.

The farmer, while his mind still hung about thousands of pounds and
a certain incomprehensible division of them to produce a distinct
intelligible total, and set before him the sum of Anthony's riches,
could see that his elder daughter was behaving flightily and neglecting
the true interests of the family, and he was chagrined. But Anthony,
before he entered the house, had assured him that Dahlia was well, and
that nothing was wrong with her. So he looked at Mrs. Sumfit, who
now took upon herself to plead for Dahlia: a young thing, and such a
handsome creature! and we were all young some time or other; and would
heaven have mercy on us, if we were hard upon the young, do you think?
The motto of a truly religious man said, try 'em again. And, maybe,
people had been a little hard upon Dahlia, and the girl was apt to
take offence. In conclusion, she appealed to Rhoda to speak up for her
sister. Rhoda sat in quiet reserve.

She was sure her sister must be justified in all she did but the picture
of the old man coming from his work every night to take his tea quite
alone made her sad. She found herself unable to speak, and as she did
not, Mrs. Sumfit had an acute twinge from her recently trodden foot,
and called her some bitter names; which was not an unusual case, for
the kind old woman could be querulous, and belonged to the list of those
whose hearts are as scales, so that they love not one person devotedly
without a corresponding spirit of opposition to another. Rhoda merely
smiled.

By-and-by, the women left the two men alone.

Anthony turned and struck the