heir fathers; and they repelled his kindness, running
away from him, and telling him openly that they would not be beholden
to him. He walked slowly up and down the terrace, thinking of this
very bitterly.

He did not find in the contemplation of his grievance all that solace
which a grievance usually gives, because he accused himself in his
thoughts rather than others. He declared to himself that he was made
to be hated, and protested to himself that it would be well that he
should die and be buried out of memory, so that the remaining Dales
might have a better chance of living happily; and then as he thus
discussed all this within his own bosom, his thoughts were very
tender, and though he was aggrieved, he was most affectionate to
those who had most injured him. But it was absolutely beyond his
power to reproduce outwardly, with words and outward signs, such
thoughts and feelings.

It was now very nearly the end of the year, but the weather was still
soft and open. The air was damp rather than cold, and the lawns
and fields still retained the green tints of new vegetation. As
the squire was walking on the terrace Hopkins came up to him, and
touching his hat, remarked that they should have frost in a day or
two.

"I suppose we shall," said the squire.

"We must have the mason to the flues of that little grape-house, sir,
before I can do any good with a fire there."

"Which grape-house?" said the squire, crossly.

"Why, the grape-house in the other garden, sir. It ought to have been
done last year by rights." This Hopkins said to punish his master
for being cross to him. On that matter of the flues of Mrs Dale's
grape-house he had, with much consideration, spared his master during
the last winter, and he felt that this ought to be remembered now. "I
can't put any fire in it, not to do any real good, till something's
done. That's sure."

"Then don't put any fire in it," said the squire.

Now the grapes in question were supposed to be peculiarly fine, and
were the glory of the garden of the Small House. They were always
forced, though not forced so early as those at the Great House, and
Hopkins was in a state of great confusion.

"They'll never ripen; sir; not the whole year through."

"Then let them be unripe," said the squire, walking about.

Hopkins did not at all understand it. The squire in his natural
course was very unwilling to neglect any such matter as this, but
would be specially unwilling to ne