Mrs. Garth laid her work on her knee, and fixed her penetrating eyes anxiously on her husband.
“After we’d done our work, Fred poured it all out to me. He can’t bear to be a clergyman, and Mary says she won’t have him if he is one; and the lad would like to be under me and give his mind to business. And I’ve determined to take him and make a man of him.”
“Caleb!” said Mrs. Garth, in a deep contralto, expressive of resigned astonishment.
“It’s a fine thing to do,” said Mr. Garth, settling himself firmly against the back of his chair, and grasping the elbows. “I shall have trouble with him, but I think I shall carry it through. The lad loves Mary, and a true love for a good woman is a great thing, Susan. It shapes many a rough fellow.”
“Has Mary spoken to you on the subject?” said Mrs Garth, secretly a little hurt that she had to be informed on it herself.
“Not a word. I asked her about Fred once; I gave her a bit of a warning. But she assured me she would never marry an idle self-indulgent man—nothing since. But it seems Fred set on Mr. Farebrother to talk to her, because she had forbidden him to speak himself, and Mr. Farebrother has found out that she is fond of Fred, but says he must not be a clergyman. Fred’s heart is fixed on Mary, that I can see: it gives me a good opinion of the lad—and we always liked him, Susan.”
“It is a pity for Mary, I think,” said Mrs. Garth.
“Why—a pity?”
“Because, Caleb, she might have had a man who is worth twenty Fred Vincy’s.”
“Ah?” said Caleb, with surprise.