"That's just what it will do, sir," said the woman.
"Didn't I tell you, hold your jaw?"
"The gentl'man was going to offer to help us a little, Dan."
"I was going to say that I am interested in the case, and that you have all my good wishes. I do not like to offer pecuniary help."
"You're very good, sir; very good. This bit of land is mine; not a doubt of it;—but we're poor, sir."
"Indeed we is," said the woman. "What with taxes and rates, and them foxes as won't let me rear a head of poultry and them brutes of birds as eats up the corn, I often tells him he'd better sell the bit o' land and just set up for a public."
"It belonged to my feyther and grandfeyther," said Goarly.
Then the Senator's heart was softened again and he explained at great length that he would watch the case and if he saw his way clearly, befriend it with substantial aid. He asked about the attorney and took down Bearside's address. After that he shook hands with both of them, and then made his way back to Bragton through Mr. Twentyman's farm.
Mr. and Mrs. Goarly were left in a state of great perturbation of mind. They could not in the least make out among themselves who the gentleman was, or whether he had come for good or evil. That he called himself Gotobed Goarly did remember, and also that he had said that he was an American. All that which had referred to senatorial honours and the State of Mickewa had been lost upon Goarly. The question of course arose whether he was not a spy sent out by Lord Rufford's man of business, and Mrs. Goarly was clearly of opinion that such had been the nature of his employment. Had he really been a friend, she suggested, he would have left a sovereign behind him. "He didn't get no information from me," said Goarly.
"Only about Mr. Bearside."