"Yes, I think you are right," Sam interjected, with a sudden burst of candour. "And, really, I don't want you to think that I am absolutely disinterested in riding over from Pentudy to see you."
"It is a long journey for nothing," William said, with a smile.
"Mind you, I have often wanted to know you better," Sam went on. "Father has often spoken of your pluck and perseverance. He admires you tremendously."
"It is very kind of him," William said, with a touch of cynicism in his tones. "I hope he is well. I have not seen him for years."
"He is first rate, thank you, and so is mother. I suppose you know they have retired from the farm?"
"I have it in my own hands now. For some things I wish I hadn't. I tried to persuade father and mother to live on in the house, but they had made up their minds to go and live in town, where they could have gas in the streets, and all that kind of thing. If I had only a sister to keep house it wouldn't be so bad."
"Well, to tell you the truth, that is the very thing I have come to talk to you about."
And Sam turned all ways in his chair, and looked decidedly uncomfortable.
"Come to talk to me about?" William questioned, in a tone of surprise.
"You think it funny, of course; but the truth is----" And Sam looked apprehensively towards the door. "We shall not be overheard here, shall we?"
"There's no one in the house but myself, except the cook. Mother's gone out to see a neighbour."
"Oh, well, I'm glad I've caught you on the quiet, as it were. I wouldn't have the matter talked about for the world."
William began to feel uncomfortable, and to wonder what his kinsman had been up to.
"I hope you have not been getting into any foolish matrimonial entanglement?" he questioned seriously.
Sam laughed heartily and good-humouredly.
"No, no; things are not quite so bad as that," he said. "The fact is, I would like to get into a matrimonial entanglement, as you call it, but not into a foolish one."
Then he stopped suddenly, and began to fidget again in his chair.
William waited for him to continue, but Sam appeared to start off on an entirely new tack.
"I don't think I've been in St. Goram parish since the sale at Hillside Farm. You remember it?"
"How bad luck seems to dog the steps of some people. I felt tremendously sorry for David Penlogan. He was a good man, by all accounts."