"Silence!" commanded Mr. Crymes. "There is no grain of brotherly love between you two——"
"Not a grain," threw in Julian, hotly.
Fox bowed sarcastically.
"You observe, father," he said, "that here I am at a disadvantage, between a sister who spars at me and a father who treads me down."
"I do not tread on you save when you grovel in the dirt," answered Mr. Crymes, "in base and dishonest matters, and I do esteem this suit of Elizabeth Cleverdon as one such."
"Opinions vary. You make me willing to leave my home, though it be not mine, nor thine neither, father, but that of sister Julian, who stuffs my pillow with thorns and the seats of her chairs with nettles. I would be away at any price, and if I can go to Hall and live there with Squire Cleverdon, I doubt not I shall be more content than I be here."
"You will live there?" said his father.
"No doubt. Master Cleverdon has ever had his daughter Elizabeth with him. He might have sent her packing, as he sent his own sister packing, when he needed her no more, and that would have been when Anthony brought home a wife to his taste. As he has not—if Julian still persists in declining to be my mother-in-law—why, I reckon that Bess will remain at Hall. A man must leave father and mother and cleave to his wife—so it will be scriptural, and that should content thee, father."
The old man drew forth his 'kerchief and wiped his face.