"Father!"

"Well, then, in a few days I will begin selling my wheat, as that lad
has advised and begged me to do these weeks past. He is a sharp lad,
and I am getting old. Perhaps he is right."

"Who, father?" I asked, rather hypocritically.

"Thee knowest well enough--John Halifax."

I thought it best to say no more; but I never let go one thread of
hope which could draw me nearer to my heart's desire.

On the Monday morning my father went to the tan-yard as usual. I
spent the day in my bed-room, which looked over the garden, where I
saw nothing but the waving of the trees and the birds hopping over
the smooth grass; heard nothing but the soft chime, hour after hour,
of the Abbey bells. What was passing in the world, in the town, or
even in the next street, was to me faint as dreams.

At dinner-time I rose, went down-stairs, and waited for my father;
waited one, two, three hours. It was very strange. He never by any
chance overstayed his time, without sending a message home. So after
some consideration as to whether I dared encroach upon his formal
habits so much, and after much advice from Jael, who betrayed more
anxiety than was at all warranted by the cause she assigned, viz. the
spoiled dinner, I despatched Jem Watkins to the tan-yard to see after
his master.