As he accomplished more, he grew more
enterprising and less disinclined to show off his recovered powers. He
first alarmed, then delighted Honor; begged for crutches, and made such
good use of them, that Dr. Martin held out fair hopes of progress, though
advising a course of rubbing and sea-air at Brighton.

Perhaps Honor had never been happier than during these weeks of
improvement, with her boy so completely her own, and more than she had
ever known him; his dejection lessening, his health returning, his
playfulness brilliant, his filial fondness most engaging. She did not
know the fixed resolution that actuated him, and revived the entire man!
She did not know what was kept in reserve till confidence in his
efficiency should dispose her to listen favourably. Meantime the present
was so delightful to her that she trembled and watched lest she should be
relapsing into the old idolatry. The test would be whether she would put
Owen above or below a clear duty.

The audit of farm-accounts before going to Brighton was as unsatisfactory
as the last. Though not beyond her own powers of unravelling, they made
it clear that Brooks was superannuated. It was piteous to see the old
man seated in the study, racking his brains to recollect the transaction
with Farmer Hodnet about seed-wheat and working oxen; to explain for what
the three extra labourers had been put on, and to discover his own
meaning in charging twice over for the repairs of Joe Littledale's
cottage; angered and overset by his mistress's gentle cross-examination,
and enraged into absolute disrespect when that old object of dislike, Mr.
Sandbrook, looked over the books, and muttered suggestions under his
moustache.

'Poor old man!' both exclaimed, as he left the room, and Honor sighed
deeply over this failure of the last of the supports left her by Humfrey.
'I must pension him off,' she said. 'I hope it will not hurt his
feelings much!' and then she turned away to her old-fashioned bureau, and
applied herself to her entries in her farming-books, while Owen sat in
his chair, dreamily caressing his beard, and revolving the proposition
that had long been in his mind.

At last the tall, red book was shut, the pen wiped, the bureau locked,
and Honor came back to her place by the table, and resumed her
needlework. Still there was silence, till she began: 'This settles it!
I have been thinking about it ever since you have been so much better.
Owen, what shoul