"Yes. I believe I have understood that."

"Well, I will never be the owner of those people - the people
that cultivate those lands; and so I suppose I shall not be
worth a sixpence; for the land is not much without the
people."

"You will not be the owner of them?"

"No."

"Why do you tell me that?" said Mr. Thorold gravely.

"I wanted you to know -" I said, hesitating and beginning very
much to wish my words unsaid.

"And the question is, what I will do in the supposed
circumstances? Was that it?"

"I said that," - I assented.

"What shall I do?" said Mr. Thorold. "I don't know. If I am in
camp, I will pitch a tent for my wife; it shall have soft
carpets and damask cushions; as many servants as she likes,
and one in especial who will take care that the others do her
bidding; scanty accommodations, perhaps, but the air full of
welcome. She will like it. If I am stationed in town
somewhere, I will fill her house with things to please her. If
I am at the old farm, I will make her confess, in a little
while, that it is the pleasantest place she ever saw in her