"Well—well—the final choosing must be with thee, wench. All that thy father can do is to say he desires it, and all I can do is to support him. God forbid that we should constrain thee unwilling, and yet a blessing does rain down from above the clouds on the heads of such children as be obedient. Now look to Anthony, and see if he be happy, having gone against his father's wishes."
"Is he unhappy?" asked Bessie.
"I do not think him the same at all. He is restless, and his mood has lost all brightness. I have not seen much of him, but what I have seen has made me uneasy concerning him, and what Fox tells me still farther disconcerts me."
"I may not go to Willsworthy. I may not see my brother nor Urith—except by very chance I meet them," said Bessie, heaving a sigh, and her eyes filling. "My father seems no nearer forgiving than he was at first."
"I do not think that aught will move him to forgiveness save, perchance, the finding of ready obedience in thee."
"I cannot—indeed I cannot, in this," said Bess.
"Lord! I would not counsel thee against thy happiness," pursued Magdalen. "But see how ill it has worked with Anthony. He followed his own will, and went against the commandment of his father, and it eats as a canker into his heart, I can see that; now if then——"
Then the door was thrown open, and the Squire appeared in it, with Fox behind his back in the passage.
"Sister," said old Cleverdon, "time enough has been spent over preparing Bess for what must be. As you have not brought her unto us, to the parlour, we've come in here to you. Come in, Tony! Come in! Look at her—there she sits; kiss her, lad! She is thine!"
But Fox did not offer to do what he was required; Bessie started and drew back, fearing lest he should, but was at once reassured by his deprecatory look and uplifted hand.