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Rh It was not by the violence of his appeal that Frank succeeded in obtaining from his father a sort of half-consent that he would no longer oppose the match; but by the assiduity with which the appeal was repeated. Frank, as we have said, had more stubbornness of will than his father; and so, before the fortnight was over, the squire had been talked over, and had promised to attend at the doctor's bidding.

'I suppose you had better take the Hazlehurst farm,' said he to his son, with a sigh. 'It joins the park and the home-fields, and I will give you up them also. God knows, I don't care about farming any more—or about anything else either.'

'Don't say that, father.'

'Well, well! But, Frank, where will you live? The old house is big enough for us all. But how would Mary get on with your mother?'

At the end of his fortnight, true to his time, the doctor returned to the village. He was a bad correspondent; and though he had written some short notes to Mary, he had said no word to her about his business. It was late in the evening when he got home, and it was understood by Frank and the squire that they were to be with him on the following morning. Not a word had been said to Lady Arabella on the subject.

It was late in the evening when he got home, and Mary waited for him with a heart almost sick with expectation. As soon as the fly had stopped at the little gate she heard his voice, and heard at once that it was quick, joyful, and telling much of inward satisfaction. He had a good-natured word for Janet, and called Thomas an old blunderhead in a manner that made Bridget laugh outright.

'He'll have his nose put out of joint some day; won't he?' said the doctor. Bridget blushed and laughed again, and made a sign to Thomas that he had better look to his face.

Mary was in his arms before he was yet within the door. 'My darling,' said he, tenderly kissing her. 'You are my own darling yet awhile.'

'Of course I am. Am I not always to be so?'

'Well, well; let me have some tea, at any rate, for I'm in a fever of thirst. They may call that tea at the Junction if they will; but if China were sunk under the sea it would make no difference to them.'

Dr. Thorne always was in a fever of thirst when he got home from the railway, and always made complaint as to the tea at the Junction. Mary went about her usual work with almost more than her usual alacrity, and so they were soon seated in the drawing-room together.