"Ah! I can't--quite remember. Some time, perhaps, I'll tell you how--shall I go to my brother or--how can I?"
"Mr. Joseph," entreated the farmer, seizing one of those delicate hands and patting it as if it had been his own. "Will you come with me? I'll make you comfortable, and have ye seen to and we'll find out about it and what can be done, and that'll save your brother, look, and he not strong! Come, Mr. Joseph! Lie down there as you was, just as ye was--God forgive me for tellin' you to look up at them stars--and I'll speak a word for you at the Inn, as we're passing. Won't that do, nor be better than goin' in like that? Not knowin' either just what is the matter. Come, Mr. Joseph! I'll drive straight home after that and make ye comfortable for the night, and there'll be no--womankind, or, or anyone to disturb ye, just me and the two boys--come, Mr. Joseph!"
"I am willing enough to go, old fellow," answered Mr. Joseph with a groan. "Willing enough to go anywhere, but where my brother--my poor brother--is. Yes, it will be best. Drive on."
The warm cheery Inn soon appeared in view. The firelight from the bar and the lamp-light from the other rooms beamed out from the red-curtained windows. The scrape of a fiddle came from the kitchen. "Squires," murmured Mr. Joseph, feebly. "He's always at it." The farmer pulled up the team at the pump corner one instant and looking around descried not a soul in view. He got down and went to the side door leading to the bar and opening it put his head in. Mrs. Cox herself was dispensing early gin and water to three or four indolent but talkative gentlemen before the fire. But she was not so busy as not to perceive the farmer. Had she already had that cap on in which bloomed the violet velvet pansy, Mr. Joseph's whereabouts might have been discovered, for invariably on those occasions she accompanied the farmer not only to the door but even to the very feet of the horses as he straightened up one thing or loosened another and would often joke about the empty waggon or the purchases made in the town which might happen to fill it.
But Farmer Wise left her no time even to adjust her head-dress, far from changing it.
"Good evening, ma'am," said he, with his head in the door. "No. Don't trouble about Squires. He's hard at work, I can hear, and besides, I don't want him. I'm late, and the boys will wait for their supper. I just have to tell ye that I see Mr. Foxley in town, Mr. Joseph Foxley, and he says how he can't come out till--say--Monday. He was stuck full of work--he was indeed--and said positive--he couldn't come. But he give me this for his brother and for--her," producing the bouquet, which caused a thrill of amazement and awe to pervade the loungers in the bar. "For his brother and for--her," said the farmer, taking a long stride across the little room and giving it to Mrs. Cox. "I congratulate you, ma'am, I do indeed."