He could not understand why Barf Latrigg's death should be allowed to interfere with life at Seat-Sandal.

Yet Mrs.Sandal was at Up-Hill all the afternoon; and, though the squire did not get home until quite the darkening, he went at once, without taking food or rest, to the dying man.
"Why, Barf is very near all the same as my own father," he said.

And then, in a lower voice, "and he may see my father before the strike of day.

I wouldn't miss Barfs last words for a year of life.

I wouldn't that." It was a lovely night,--warm, and sweet with the scent of August lilies, and the rich aromas of ripening fruit and grain.