Susan, on the other hand, was all joy and hope; William more or less
despondent.

The old Jew glanced from one to another, read them all, and enjoyed
his triumph.

But when his eye returned to George Fielding he met with something he
had not reckoned upon.

The young man showed no joy, no emotion. He stood immovable, like a
statue of a man, and when he opened his lips it was like a statue
speaking with its marble mouth.

"No! Susan. No! old man. I am honest, though I'm poor--and proud,
though you have seen me put to shame near my own homestead more than
once to-day. To borrow without a chance of paying is next door to
stealing; and I should never pay you. My eyes are opened in spite of
my heart. I can't farm 'The Grove' with no grass, and wheat at forty
shillings. I've tried all I know, and I can't do it. Will there is
dying to try, and he shall try, and may Heaven speed his plow better
than it has poor George's."

"I am not thinking of the farm now, George," said William. "I'm
thinking of when we were boys, and used to play
marbles--together--upon the tombstones." And he faltered a little.

"Mr. Levi! seems you have a kindness for me. Show it to my brother
when I'm away, if you _will_ be so good."

"Hum?" said Isaac doubtfully. "I care not to see your stout young