"
"Go back with me to Sandal-Side, and see the squire: he may listen to
you now."
"Never more! It was cruel of father to take my marriage in such a way.
He turned my life's joy into a crime, cursed every hour that was left
me."
"People used to be so intense--'a few strong feelings,' as Mr.
Wordsworth says--too strong for ordinary life. We really can't afford to
love and hate and suffer in such a teetotal way now; but the squire came
from the Middle Ages. This is a dreadfully hot place, Harry."
"Yes, it is. We were very much deceived in it. I bought it; and we
dreamed of vineyards and milk and wine, and a long, happy, simple life
together. Nothing has prospered with us. We were swindled in the house
and land. The signor knows nothing about vines. He was born here, and
wanted to come back and be a great man." And as he spoke he laughed
hysterically, and took Julius into an inner room. "I don't want Beatrice
to hear that I am out of money. She does not know I am destitute. That
sorrow, at least, I have kept from her."
"Harry, I am going to make you a proposal. I want to be kind and just to
you. I want to put you beyond the need of any one's help. Answer me one
question truly. If your father dies, what will you do?"
"You said he was getting better. For God's sake, do not speak of his
death."
"I am supposing a case. You would then be squire of Sandal-Side. Would
you return there with Beatrice?"
"Ah, no! I know what those Dalesmen are.
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