"I did not sleep at all," he answered her--"I lay broad awake,
thinking of you. Thinking of you, my little innocent, fatherless,
motherless lamb! And you, child!--you did not sleep so well as you
should have done, talking with Robin half the night out of
window!"

She coloured deeply. He smiled and pinched her crimsoning cheek,
apparently well pleased.

"No harm, no harm!" he said--"Just two young doves cooing among
the leaves at mating time! Robin has told me all about it. Now
listen, child!--I'm away to-day to the market town--there's seed
to buy and crops to sell--I'll take Ned Landon with me--" he
paused, and an odd expression of sternness and resolve clouded his
features--"Yes!--I'll take Ned Landon with me--he's shrewd enough
when he's sober--and he's cunning enough, too, for that matter!--
yes, I'll take him with me. We'll be off in the dog-cart as soon
as breakfast's done. My time's getting short, but I'll attend to
my own business as long as I can--I'll look after Briar Farm till
I die--and I'll die in harness. There's plenty of work to do yet--
plenty of work; and while I'm away you can settle up things--"

Here he broke off, and his eyes grew fixed in a sudden vacant
stare. Innocent, frightened at his unnatural look, laid her hand
caressingly on his arm.

"Yes, dear Dad!" she said, soothingly--"What is it you wish me to
do?"

The stare faded from his eyeballs, and his face softened.