‘But why, in the name of Fortune?’ he ejaculated. ‘I could understand her marrying again—but why you?’
‘She knowed I’d work the farm right, d’ ye see? Things was goin’ wrong all round, and she knowed I understood the work. Ah, I told her myself at the time that she ought to look out for a younger man; but she says, “I don’t want no counter-jumpers,” says she—meanin’ the Branston folks. Ah, there were a good few after her, but she did n’t fancy none o’ them. She thought some was arter the money, and none o’ them knowed anythin’ about dairy-farmin’.’
‘In fact,’ struck in Richard, rising from his chair and beginning to pace hastily about the room, ‘she has proved herself to be a most practical woman. You won’t make away with her money—you won’t allow mismanagement of the business.’
‘Jist so,’ agreed his uncle, sucking vigorously at his partially extinguished pipe.
Richard continued to walk about the room, and presently paused opposite the hearth.
‘Did she make an offer to Elias Fiander too?’ he inquired sharply.
Isaac removed his pipe and stared up at him. The idea was evidently presented to him for the first time.
‘He never telled me so,’ he said. ‘It were made up in a hurry, to be sure. ’Lias had n’t no notion o’ sich a thing when he started off from here. He went arter a turnip-hoer arter her granfer’s death. They sold ’en up, poor old chap, and Rosalie—that’s Mrs. Fiander—had n’t nowhere to go.’
‘Ha!’ remarked Richard sardonically.
‘But I think,’ pursued the farmer, averting his eyes from his nephew’s face and gazing stolidly at the fire—‘I think ’twas ’Lias as axed her. ’Ees, now I can mind he told me so at the time. “Me wantin’ a wife so bad,” says he, “and her bein’ such a good hand at the dairy-work, I thought I’d make sure o’ her,” he says.’