and splendid thing.

That he should admit Phoebe into his thoughts and ambitions was not
unreasonable for two reasons: he knew himself to be heartily in love
with her by this time, and he had heard from her father a definite
statement upon the subject of Will Blanchard. Indeed, the miller, from
motives of worldly wisdom, took an opportunity to let John Grimbal know
the situation.

"No shadow of any engagement at all," he said. "I made it plain as a
pikestaff to them both. It mustn't be thought I countenanced their
crack-brained troth-plighting. 'T was by reason of my final 'Nay' that
Will went off. He 's gone out of her life, and she 'm free as the air. I
tell you this because you may have heard different, and you mix with the
countryside and can contradict any man who gives out otherwise. And,
mind you, I say it from no ill-will to the bwoy, but out of justice to
my cheel."

Thus, to gain private ends, Mr. Lyddon spoke, and his information
greatly heartened the listener. John had more than once sounded Phoebe
on the subject of Will during the past few months, and was bound to
confess that any chance he might possess appeared small; but he was
deeply in love and a man accustomed to have his own way. Increasing
portions of his time and thought were devoted to this ambition, and when
Phoebe's father spoke as recorded, Grimbal jumped at the announcement
and pushed for his own hand.

"If a man that was a man, with a bit of land and a bit of stuff behind
him, came along and asked to court her, 't would be different, I
suppose?" he inquired.

"I'd wish just such a man might come, for her sake."

"Supposing I asked if I might try to win Phoebe?"

"I'd desire your gude speed, my son. Nothing could please, me better."

"Then I've got you on my side?"

"You really mean it? Well, well! Gert news to be sure, an' I be pleased
as Punch to hear 'e. But take my word, for I'm richer than you by many
years in knawledge of the world, though I haven't seen so much of it.
Go slow. Wait a while till that brown bwoy graws a bit dim in Phoebe's
eyes. Your life 's afore you, and the gal 's scarce marriageable, to my
thinking. Build your house and bide your time."

"So be it; and if I don't win her presently, I sha'n't deserve to."

"Ess, but taake time, lad. She 'm a dutiful, gude maiden, and I'd be
sore to think my awn words won't carry their weight when the right
moment comes for speaking 'em. Blanchard's business pulled down the