The sergeant was much moved by the squire’s earnestness.  He saw that the latter had really at heart the proposal he made.

“You are very good, squire,” he said in a low voice; “but even if I could bring myself to eat another man’s bread, as long as I can work for my own, it would not do.  I am neither by birth nor education fitted for such a position as that you offer to me.”

“Pooh, nonsense!” the squire said hotly.  “You have seen the world.  You have travelled and mixed with men.  You are fit to associate as an equal with anyone.  Don’t you deceive yourself; you certainly do not deceive me.

“It is pride that stands in your way.  For that you are going to risk the happiness of your granddaughter, to say nothing of mine; for you don’t suppose that either of us is going to feel comfortable and happy, when the snow is whirling round, and the wind sweeping the moors, to think of you trudging along about the country, while we are sitting snugly here by a warm fire.

“You are wanting to spoil everything, now that it has all come right at last, by just the same obstinate pride which wrecked the lives of our children.  I won’t have it, man.  I won’t hear of it.

“Come, say no more.  I want a friend badly, and I am sure we shall suit each other.  I want a companion.  Why, man, if I were a rich old lady, and you were a poor old lady, and I asked you to come as my companion, you would see nothing derogatory in the offer.  You shall come as my companion, now, or if you like as joint guardian to the child.  You shall have your own rooms in the house; and when you feel inclined to be grumpy, and don’t care to take your meals with the child and me, you can take them apart.

“At any rate, try it for a month, and if you are not comfortable then I will let you go, though your rooms shall always be in readiness for you, whenever you are disposed to come back.

“Come, give me your hand on the bargain.”

Sergeant Wilks could resist no longer.  The last two years work, without the child, had indeed been heavy, and especially in winter, when the wind blew strong across the uplands, he began to feel that he was no longer as strong as he used to be.  The prospect of having Aggie always near him was, however, a far greater temptation than that of ending his days in quiet and comfort.

His hand and that of the squire met in a cordial grip, and the matter was settled.  Fortunately, as the sergeant reflected, he had still his pension of ten shillings a week, which would suffice to supply clothes and other little necessaries which he might require, and would thus save him from being altogether dependent on the squire.

Aggie was wild with delight, when she was called in and informed of the arrangement.  The thought of her grandfather tramping the country, alone, had been the one drawback to the pleasure of her life at Mrs. Walsham’s, and many a time she had cried herself to sleep, as she pictured to herself his loneliness.  That he was to be with her always, was to give up his work to settle down in comfort, was indeed a delight to her.