Even in his brute nature there were some faint twinges of compunction, now that the deed he had been so eager to compass was well-nigh done--some vague consciousness that he had been a hard and cruel father.
"And yet it's all for her own good," he told himself, "quite as much as for mine.

Better to marry a rich man than a pauper any day; and to take a dislike to a man's age or a man's looks is nothing but a girl's nonsense.
The best husband is the one that can keep his wife best; and if I hadn't forced on this business, she'd have taken up with lawyer Randall's son, who's no better than a beggar, and a pretty life she'd have had of it with him." By such reasoning as this William Carley contrived to set his conscience at rest during that silent walk along the rustic lane between the Grange and Crosber church.

It was not a conscience very difficult to appease.
And as for his daughter's pallid looks, those of course were only natural to the occasion.
Mr.Whitelaw and Mrs.Tadman were at the church when the bailiff and his daughter arrived.

The farmer had made a scarecrow of himself in a new suit of clothes, which he had ordered in honour of this important event, after a great deal of vacillation, and more than one countermand to the Malsham tailor who made the garments.

At the last he was not quite clear in his mind as to whether he wanted the clothes, and the outlay was a serious one.