agitation from the gentleman's servant. He handed George the note, and
saying, "I was to wait for an answer, Farmer Fielding," sauntered
toward the farm-stables.

"From Mr. Winchester," said George, after a long and careful
inspection of the outside.

In the country it is a point of honor to find out the writer of a
letter by the direction, not the signature.

"The Honorable Francis Winchester! What does he write to you?" cried
Merton, in a tone of great surprise. This, too, was not lost on
George.

Human nature is human nature. He was not sorry to be able to read a
gentleman's letter in the face of one who had bitterly reproached him,
and of others who had seen him mortified and struck down.

"Seems so," said George, dryly, and with a glance of defiance; and he
read out the letter.

"George Fielding, my fine fellow, think of it again. I have two berths
in the ship that sails from Southampton to-morrow. You will have every
comfort on the voyage--a great point. I will do what I said for you"
("he promised me five hundred sheep and a run"). "I must have an
honest man, and where can I find as honest a man as George Fielding?"
("Thank you, Mr. Winchester; George Fielding thanks you, sir.") And
there was something noble and simple in the way the young farmer drew
himself up, and looked fearlessly in all his companions' eyes.