t expect a penny."

"So much the better for him; and, indeed, so much the better for her.
He won't make her the less welcome to his home because she brings
some assistance to it."

"We have never thought of it,--any of us. The offer has come so
suddenly that I don't know what I ought to say."

"Say--nothing. If you choose to make me a return for it--; but I am
only doing what I conceive to be my duty, and have no right to ask
for a kindness in return."

"But what kindness can we show you, Mr Dale?"

"Remain in that house." In saying these last words he spoke as though
he were again angry,--as though he were again laying down the law to
them,--as though he were telling her of a duty which was due to him
and incumbent on her. His voice was as stern and his face as acid as
ever. He said that he was asking for a kindness; but surely no man
ever asked for kindness in a voice so peremptory. "Remain in that
house." Then he turned himself in towards his table as though he had
no more to say.

But Mrs Dale was beginning, now at last, to understand something of
his mind and real character. He could be affectionate and forbearing
in his giving; but when asking, he could not be otherwise than stern.
Indeed, he could not ask; he could only demand.

"We have done so much now," Mrs Dale began to plead.

"Well, well, well. I did not mean to speak about that. Things are
unpacked easier than they are packed. But, however-- Never mind. Bell
is to go with me this afternoon to Guestwick Manor. Let her be up
here at two. Grimes can bring her box round, I suppose."

"Oh, yes: of course."

"And don't be talking to her about money before she starts. I had
rather you didn't;--you understand. But when you see Crofts, tell him
to come to me. Indeed, he'd better come at once, if this thing is to
go on quickly."

It may easily be understood that Mrs Dale would disobey the
injunctions contained in the squire's last words. It was quite out
of the question that she should return to her daughters and not
tell them the result of her morning's interview with their uncle.
A hundred a year in the doctor's modest household would make all
the difference between plenty and want, between modest plenty and
endurable want. Of course she told them, giving Bell to understand
that she must dissemble so far as to pretend ignorance of the affair.

"I shall thank him at once," said Bell; "and tell him that I did not
at all expect it, but am not too prou