I think your grandfather would rather the key rusted away."
"Does the squire know any thing about them?"
"Not he."
"If he asks, will you tell him?"
"Not yet. I--hope never."
"I wish they were in the fire."
"Perhaps some day you may put them there. You will have the right when I
am gone."
Then Steve silently kissed her, and went into the garden; and Ducie
watched him through the window, and whispered to herself, "It is a bit
hard, but it might be harder; and right always gets the over-hand at the
long end."
The first interview between the squire and Stephen after Barf Latrigg's
funeral was not a pleasanter one than this misunderstanding promised.
Sandal was walking on Sandal Scree-top one morning, and met Steve.
"Good-morning, Mr. Latrigg," he said; "you are a statesman now, and we
must give you your due respect." He did not say it unkindly; but Steve
somehow felt the difference between Mr. Latrigg and Squire Sandal as he
had never felt it when the greeting had only been, "Good-morning,
Steve. How do all at home do?"
Still, he was anxious to keep Sandal's good-will, and he hastened to ask
his opinion upon several matters relating to the estate which had just
come into his hands. Ordinarily this concession would have been a piece
of subtle flattery quite irresistible to the elder man, but just at that
time it was the most imprudent thing Steve could have done.
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