She was a little touched. No woman would feel disposed to marry a man simply because he cried, and perhaps few women would be less likely to give way to such tenderness than Mrs. Greenow. She understood men and women too well, and had seen too much both of the world's rough side and of its smooth side to fall into such a blunder as that; but she was touched. "My friend," she said, putting her hand upon his arm, "think no more of it."
"But I can't help thinking of it," said he, almost blubbering in his earnestness.
"No, no, no," said she, still touching him with her hand. "Why, Mr. Cheesacre, how can you bring yourself to care for an old woman like me, when so many pretty young ladies would give their eyes to get a kind word from you?"
"I don't want any young lady," said he.
"There's Charlie Fairstairs, who would make as good a wife as any girl I know."

She was a little touched. No woman would feel disposed to marry a man simply because he cried, and Mrs. Greenow had seen too much of the world to fall into such a blunder as that; but she was touched.
"My friend," she said, putting her hand upon his arm, "think no more of it."
"But I can't help thinking of it," said he, almost blubbering.
"No, no, no," said she. "Why, Mr. Cheesacre, how can you care for an old woman like me, when so many pretty young ladies would give their eyes to get a kind word from you?"
"I don't want any young lady," said he.
"There's Charlie Fairstairs, who would make as good a wife as any girl I know."
