her vanity, but they were the best her life offered her now--they promised her
There was a great deal of discussion before Adam went away, about the
possibility of his finding a house that would do for him to settle in. No house was
empty except the one next to Will Maskery's in the village, and that was too small
for Adam now. Mr. Poyser insisted that the best plan would be for Seth and his
mother to move and leave Adam in the old home, which might be enlarged after
a while, for there was plenty of space in the woodyard and garden; but Adam
objected to turning his mother out.
"Well, well," said Mr. Poyser at last, "we needna fix everything to-night. We must
take time to consider. You canna think o' getting married afore Easter. I'm not for
long courtships, but there must be a bit o' time to make things comfortable."
"Aye, to be sure," said Mrs. Poyser, in a hoarse whisper; "Christian folks can't be
married like cuckoos, I reckon."
"I'm a bit daunted, though," said Mr. Poyser, "when I think as we may have notice
to quit, and belike be forced to take a farm twenty mile off."
"Eh," said the old man, staring at the floor and lifting his hands up and down,
while his arms rested on the elbows of his chair, "it's a poor tale if I mun leave th'
ould spot an be buried in a strange parish. An' you'll happen ha' double rates to
pay," he added, looking up at his son.
"Well, thee mustna fret beforehand, father," said Martin the younger. "Happen the
captain 'ull come home and make our peace wi' th' old squire. I build upo' that, for
I know the captain 'll see folks righted if he can."