“What is my part?”
“It is to win over thy mother.”
“You, sir, have far more influence over mother than I have. If I cannot win mother, will you try, sir?”
“No, I will not. Now, Dick, doan’t let me see thee wilt in thy first fight. Pluck up courage and win or fail with a high heart. And if tha should fail, just take the knockdown with a smile, and say,
“If she is not fair for me,
What care I how fair she be!
That was the young men’s song in my youth. Now we will drop the subject and what dost tha say to a ride in the Park?”
“All right, sir.”
The ride was not much to speak of. One man was too happy, and the other was too unhappy and eventually the squire put a stop to it. “Dick,” he said, “tha hed better go to thy room at The Yorkshire Club and sleep thysen into a more respectable temper.” And Dick answered, “Thank you, sir. I will take your advice”—and so raising his hand to his hat he rapidly disappeared.
“Poor lad!” muttered his father; “he hes some hard days before him but it would niver do to give him what he wants and there is no ither way to put things right”—and with this reflection the squire’s good spirits fell even below his son’s melancholy. Then he resolved to go back to the Clarendon. “Annie may come back there to dress before her dinner and opera,” he reflected—“but if she does I’ll not tell her a word of Dick’s trouble. No, indeed! Dick must carry his awn bad news. I hev often told her unpleasant things and usually I got the brunt o’ them mysen. So if Annie comes home to dress—and she does do so varry often lately—I’ll not mention Dick’s affair to her. I hev noticed that she dresses hersen varry smart now and, by George, it suits her well! In her way she looks as handsome as either of her daughters. I did not quite refuse to dine at Jane’s, I think she will come to the Clarendon to dress and to beg me to go with her and I might as well go—here she comes! I know her step, bless her!”