George's reply; but it was not given in that assured tone with which
he would have laughed at Robinson's eloquence a week ago.

"I could not live with all those thieves and ruffians that are settled
down there like crows on a dead horse; but I thank you kindly, my lad,
all the same," said the tender-hearted young man.

"Strange," thought he, "that so many should sing me the same tune,
and he fell back into his reverie.

Here they were all summoned to dinner, with a dash of asperity, by
Sarah the stout farm servant.

Susan lingered an instant to speak to George. She chose an unfortunate
topic. She warned him once more against Mr. Robinson.

"My father says that he has no business nor trade, and he is not a
gentleman, in spite of his red and green cravat, so he must be a rogue
of some sort."

"Shall I tell you his greatest fault?" was the bitter reply. "He is my
friend; he is the only creature that has spoken kind words to me
to-day. Oh! I saw how cross you looked at him."

Susan's eyes flashed, and the color rose in her cheek, and the water
in her eyes.

"You are a fool, George," said she; "you don't know how to read a
woman, nor her looks, nor her words either."