<SPAN name="chap15"></SPAN>
<h3> CHAPTER XV </h3>
<p>There was one person, as you will believe, who watched with keener
though more hidden interest than any other, the prosperous growth of
Eppie under the weaver's care. He dared not do anything that would
imply a stronger interest in a poor man's adopted child than could be
expected from the kindliness of the young Squire, when a chance meeting
suggested a little present to a simple old fellow whom others noticed
with goodwill; but he told himself that the time would come when he
might do something towards furthering the welfare of his daughter
without incurring suspicion. Was he very uneasy in the meantime at his
inability to give his daughter her birthright? I cannot say that he
was. The child was being taken care of, and would very likely be
happy, as people in humble stations often were—happier, perhaps, than
those brought up in luxury.</p>
<p>That famous ring that pricked its owner when he forgot duty and
followed desire—I wonder if it pricked very hard when he set out on
the chase, or whether it pricked but lightly then, and only pierced to
the quick when the chase had long been ended, and hope, folding her
wings, looked backward and became regret?</p>
<p>Godfrey Cass's cheek and eye were brighter than ever now. He was so
undivided in his aims, that he seemed like a man of firmness. No
Dunsey had come back: people had made up their minds that he was gone
for a soldier, or gone "out of the country", and no one cared to be
specific in their inquiries on a subject delicate to a respectable
family. Godfrey had ceased to see the shadow of Dunsey across his
path; and the path now lay straight forward to the accomplishment of
his best, longest-cherished wishes. Everybody said Mr. Godfrey had
taken the right turn; and it was pretty clear what would be the end of
things, for there were not many days in the week that he was not seen
riding to the Warrens. Godfrey himself, when he was asked jocosely if
the day had been fixed, smiled with the pleasant consciousness of a
lover who could say "yes", if he liked. He felt a reformed man,
delivered from temptation; and the vision of his future life seemed to
him as a promised land for which he had no cause to fight. He saw
himself with all his happiness centred on his own hearth, while Nancy
would smile on him as he played with the children.</p>
<p>And that other child—not on the hearth—he would not forget it; he
would see that it was well provided for. That was a father's duty.</p>
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