The prettiest of tables were there;--the easiest of chairs;--the most costly of cabinets;--the quaintest of old china ornaments.

The prettiest of tables - the easiest of chairs - the most costly of cabinets.


It was bright with the gayest colours,--made pleasant to the eye with the binding of many books, having nymphs painted on the ceiling and little Cupids on the doors.

It was bright with colour, with books, and with nymphs painted on the ceiling and little Cupids on the doors.


"I call it my dressing-room because in that way I can keep people out of it, but I have my brushes and soap in a little closet there, and my clothes,--my clothes are everywhere I suppose, only there are none of them here.

"I call it my dressing-room because in that way I can keep people out of it," said Lady Glencora, "but it isn't really.


Now to Mr. Palliser a dressing-room is a dressing-room, and a bedroom a bedroom.

Now to Mr. Palliser a dressing-room is a dressing-room.


He cares for nothing being pretty; not even his wife, or he wouldn't have married me."


"You wouldn't say that if you meant it."


Sometimes when I look at myself, when I simply am myself, with no making up or grimacing, you know, I think I'm the ugliest young woman the sun ever shone on.

Sometimes when I look at myself, when I simply am myself, I think I'm the ugliest young woman the sun ever shone on.


And in ten years' time I shall be the ugliest old woman.


Only think,--my hair is beginning to get grey, and I'm not twenty-one yet.

Only think - my hair is beginning to get grey, and I'm not twenty-one yet.


Look at it;" and she lifted up the wavy locks just above her ear.


"But there's one comfort; he doesn't care about beauty.


"Nonsense;--then I oughtn't to have asked you.


Why should you think I should be ashamed of my age?"


"I don't know why, only somehow, people are; and I didn't think you were so old.

"I don't know, only somehow, people are; and I didn't think you were so old.


It would be nothing if you were married; only, you see, you won't get married."


You'll find that they'll get the better of you.


Your father will storm at you, and Lady Macleod will preach at you, and Lady Midlothian will jump upon you."


"I'm not a bit afraid of Lady Midlothian."


"I know what it is, my dear, to be jumped upon.


We talked with such horror of the French people giving their daughters in marriage, just as they might sell a house or a field, but we do exactly the same thing ourselves.


When they all come upon you in earnest how are you to stand against them?


"To be sure you're older,--and you are not so heavily weighted.

"To be sure you're older - and not so heavily weighted.


But never mind; I didn't mean to talk about that;--not yet at any rate.

But I didn't mean to talk about that; not yet at any rate.


The Duchess of St. Bungay is here, and Mr. Palliser will be angry if I don't do pretty to her.

The Duchess of St. Bungay is here, and Mr. Palliser will be angry if I don't behave prettily to her.


The Duke is to be the new President of the Council, or rather, I believe he is President now.


I try to remember it all, but it is so hard when one doesn't really care two pence how it goes.

I try to remember it all, but it is so hard when one doesn't really care two pence.


Not but what I'm very anxious that Mr. Palliser should be Chancellor of the Exchequer.

Although I'm very anxious that Mr. Palliser should be Chancellor of the Exchequer.


And now, will you remain here, or will you come down with me, or will you go to your own room, and I'll call for you when I go down to dinner?

And now, will you stay here, or come down with me, or will you go to your own room until dinner?


Alice decided that she would stay in her own room till dinner time, and was taken there by Lady Glencora.


She found her maid unpacking her clothes, and for a while employed herself in assisting at the work; but that was soon done, and then she was left alone.

She found her maid unpacking her clothes, and helped her; but that was soon done.


"I shall feel so strange, ma'am, among all those people down-stairs," said the girl.

"I shall feel so strange, ma'am, among all those people downstairs," said the girl.


"They all seem to look at me as though they didn't know who I was."

"They all look at me as though they didn't know who I was."


"I suppose I shall; but you see, they're all like knowing each other, miss."

"I suppose I shall; but you see, they all know each other, miss."


Alice, when she sat down alone, felt herself to be very much in the same condition as her maid.


What would the Duchess of St. Bungay or Mr. Jeffrey Palliser,--who himself might live to be a duke if things went well for him,--care for her?

What would the Duchess of St. Bungay or Mr. Jeffrey Palliser care for her?


As to Mr. Palliser, the master of the house, it was already evident to her that he would not put himself out of his way for her.

As to Mr. Palliser, the master of the house, it was already evident that he would not put himself out of his way for her.


If it were possible for her to fly away, back to the dullness of Queen Anne Street, or even to the preachings of Lady Macleod, would she not do so immediately?


What business had she,--she asked herself,--to come to such a house as that?


Lady Glencora was very kind to her, but frightened her even by her kindness.


Moreover, she was aware that Lady Glencora could not devote herself especially to any such guest as she was.

she was aware that Lady Glencora could not devote herself especially to her.


Lady Glencora must of course look after her duchesses, and do pretty, as she called it, to her husband's important political alliances.

Lady Glencora must look after her duchesses.


And then she began to think about Lady Glencora herself.


What a strange, weird nature she was,--with her round blue eyes and wavy hair, looking sometimes like a child and sometimes almost like an old woman!

What a strange, weird nature, with her round blue eyes and wavy hair, looking sometimes like a child and sometimes almost like an old woman!


What things she said, and what terrible forebodings she uttered of stranger things that she meant to say!


Why had she at their first meeting made that allusion to the mode of her own betrothal,--and then, checking herself for speaking of it so soon, almost declare that she meant to speak more of it hereafter?

Why had she made that allusion to her own betrothal - and then, checking herself, almost declare that she meant to say more of it later?


"She should never mention it to any one," said Alice to herself.

"She should never mention it to anyone," said Alice to herself.


"If her lot in life has not satisfied her, there is so much the more reason why she should not mention it."


Then Alice protested to herself that no father, no aunt, no Lady Midlothian should persuade her into a marriage of which she feared the consequences.

She vowed that no father, no aunt, no Lady Midlothian should persuade her into a marriage of which she feared the consequences.


But Lady Glencora had made for herself excuses which were not altogether untrue.


She had been very young, and had been terribly weighted with her wealth.


And it seemed to Alice that her cousin had told her everything in that hour and a half that they had been together.

It seemed to Alice that her cousin had told her everything in that hour and a half that they had been together.


She had given a whole history of her husband and of herself.


She had said how indifferent he was to her pleasures, and how vainly she strove to interest herself in his pursuits.


And then, as yet, she was childless and without prospect of a child, when, as she herself had said,--"so much depended on it."

And she was still childless when, as she herself had said, "so much depended on it."


It was very strange to Alice that all this should have been already told to her.


And why should Lady Glencora think of Alice when she walked out among the priory ruins by moonlight?

And why should Lady Glencora think of Alice when she walked among the priory ruins by moonlight?


The two hours seemed to her very long,--as though she were passing her time in absolute seclusion at Matching.


Of course she did not dare to go down-stairs.


; but at last her maid came to dress her for dinner.


"Why, miss, they are uncommon civil, and I don't think after all it will be so bad.


We had our teas very comfortable in the housekeeper's room."


There are five or six of us altogether, all ladies'-maids, miss; and there's nothing on earth to do all the day long, only sit and do a little needlework over the fire."


A few minutes before eight Lady Glencora knocked at Alice's door, and took her arm to lead her to the drawing-room.

A few minutes before eight Lady Glencora knocked at Alice's door, to lead her to the drawing-room.


Alice saw that she was magnificently dressed, with an enormous expanse of robe, and that her locks had been so managed that no one could suspect the presence of a grey hair.

Alice saw that she was magnificently dressed, with an enormous expanse of robe, and with her locks arranged so that no one could suspect the presence of a grey hair.


Indeed, with all her magnificence, she looked almost a child.

For all her magnificence, she looked almost a child.


"Let me see," she said, as they went down-stairs together.


"I'll tell Jeffrey to take you in to dinner.

"I'll tell Jeffrey to take you in to dinner," she told Alice.


"He's about the easiest young man we have here.


He rather turns up his nose at everything, but that doesn't make him the less agreeable; does it, dear?--unless he turns up his nose at you, you know."

He rather turns up his nose at everything, but that doesn't make him less agreeable - unless he turns up his nose at you, you know."


That would be uncourteous,--and he's the most courteous man in the world.

He's the most courteous man in the world.


There's nobody here, you see," she said as they entered the room, "and I didn't suppose there would be.

Good, there's nobody here," she said as they entered the room.


"It's always proper to be first in one's own house.


I do so try to be proper,--and it is such trouble.

I do so try to be proper - and it is such trouble.


Talking of people earning their bread, Alice;--I'm sure I earn mine.


Oh dear!--what fun it would be to be sitting somewhere in Asia, eating a chicken with one's fingers, and lighting a big fire outside one's tent to keep off the lions and tigers.

Oh dear! what fun it would be to be sitting somewhere in Asia, eating a chicken with one's fingers, and lighting a big fire outside one's tent to keep off the lions and tigers!"


Fancy your being on one side of the fire and the lions and tigers on the other, grinning at you through the flames!"


Then Lady Glencora strove to look like a lion, and grinned at herself in the glass.


"That sort of grin wouldn't frighten me," said Alice.


"I have been reading about it in that woman's travels.


Oh, here they are, and I mustn't make any more faces.

Oh, here they are; I mustn't make any more faces.


The Duchess made a stiff little bow of condescension, and then declared that she was charmingly warm.

The Duchess made a stiff little bow, and declared that she was charmingly warm.


"I don't know how you manage in your house, but the staircases are so comfortable.

"I don't know how you manage it, but the staircases are so comfortable.


Now at Longroyston we've taken all the trouble in the world,--put down hot-water pipes all over the house, and everything else that could be thought of, and yet, you can't move about the place without meeting with draughts at every corner of the passages."

Now at Longroyston we've taken all the trouble in the world - put down hot-water pipes all over the house, yet there are draughts at every corner of the passages."


The Duchess spoke with an enormous emphasis on every other word, sometimes putting so great a stress on some special syllable, as almost to bring her voice to a whistle.


This she had done with the word "pipes" to a great degree,--so that Alice never afterwards forgot the hot-water pipes of Longroyston.


"I was telling Lady Glencora, Miss Palliser, that I never knew a house so warm as this,--or, I'm sorry to say,"--and here the emphasis was very strong on the word sorry,--"so cold as Longroyston."


And the tone in which Longroyston was uttered would almost have drawn tears from a critical audience in the pit of a playhouse.


The Duchess was a woman of about forty, very handsome, but with no meaning in her beauty, carrying a good fixed colour in her face, which did not look like paint, but which probably had received some little assistance from art.

She was a woman of about forty, very handsome


She was a well-built, sizeable woman, with good proportions and fine health,--but a fool.


She had addressed herself to one Miss Palliser; but two Miss Pallisers, cousins of Plantagenet Palliser, had entered the room at the same time, of whom I may say, whatever other traits of character they may have possessed, that at any rate they were not fools.

Two Miss Pallisers, cousins of Plantagenet Palliser, had entered the room at the same time, and they were certainly not fools.


"It's always easy to warm a small house like this," said Miss Palliser, whose Christian names, unfortunately for her, were Iphigenia Theodata, and who by her cousin and sister was called Iphy--"and I suppose equally difficult to warm a large one such as Longroyston."

"It's always easy to warm a small house like this," said Miss Palliser, whose Christian name, unfortunately, was Iphigenia Theodata, and whom her cousin and sister called Iphy; "and I suppose it's difficult to warm a large one such as Longroyston."


The other Miss Palliser had been christened Euphemia.

The other Miss Palliser was called Euphemia.


"We've got no pipes, Duchess, at any rate," said Lady Glencora; and Alice, as she sat listening, thought she discerned in Lady Glencora's pronunciation of the word pipes an almost hidden imitation of the Duchess's whistle.


It must have been so, for at the moment Lady Glencora's eye met Alice's for an instant, and was then withdrawn, so that Alice was compelled to think that her friend and cousin was not always quite successful in those struggles she made to be proper.

Lady Glencora's eye met Alice's for an instant, and was then withdrawn, so that Alice was compelled to think that her friend was not always quite successful in her struggles to be proper.


Then the gentlemen came in one after another, and other ladies, till about thirty people were assembled.

Then the gentlemen came in, and other ladies, till about thirty people were assembled.


Mr. Palliser came up and spoke another word to Alice in a kind voice,--meant to express some sense of connection if not cousinship.

Mr. Palliser came up and spoke a kind word to Alice.


"My wife has been thinking so much of your coming.


Alice, who had already begun to feel desolate, was grateful, and made up her mind that she would try to like Mr. Palliser.


Jeffrey Palliser was almost the last in the room, but directly he entered Lady Glencora got up from her seat, and met him as he was coming into the crowd.

Jeffrey Palliser was almost the last in the room. Lady Glencora


"You must take my cousin, Alice Vavasor, in to dinner," she said, "and;--will you oblige me to-day?"

went to meet him, saying, "You must take my cousin, Alice Vavasor, in to dinner


After that she introduced them, and Jeffrey Palliser stood opposite to Alice, talking to her, till dinner was announced.

She introduced them, and Jeffrey Palliser stood talking to Alice till dinner was announced.


In the meantime Kate Vavasor was living down in Westmoreland, with no other society than that of her grandfather, and did not altogether have a very pleasant life of it.

In the meantime Kate Vavasor was living in Westmorland with her grandfather, and did not have a very pleasant life.


George had been apt to represent the old man to himself as being as strong as an old tower, which, though it be but a ruin, shows no sign of falling.

George thought of the old man as being as strong as a tower,


To his eyes the Squire had always seemed to be full of life and power.


He could be violent on occasions, and was hardly ever without violence in his eyes and voice.


But George's opinion was formed by his wish, or rather by the reverses of his wish.


For years he had been longing that his grandfather should die,--had been accusing Fate of gross injustice in that she did not snap the thread; and with such thoughts in his mind he had grudged every ounce which the Squire's vigour had been able to sustain.


He had almost taught himself to believe that it would be a good deed to squeeze what remained of life out of that violent old throat.


But, indeed, the embers of life were burning low; and had George known all the truth, he would hardly have inclined his mind to thoughts of murder.

But, in fact, the embers of the Squire's life were burning low.


He was, indeed, very weak with age, and tottering with unsteady steps on the brink of his grave, though he would still come down early from his room, and would, if possible, creep out about the garden and into the farmyard.

He was, indeed, very weak with age, and tottering with unsteady steps on the brink of his grave, though he would still creep about the garden and into the farmyard.


He would still sit down to dinner, and would drink his allotted portion of port wine, in the doctor's teeth.

He would still sit down to dinner, and drink his allotted portion of port wine.


The doctor by no means desired to rob him of his last luxury, or even to stint his quantity; but he recommended certain changes in the mode and time of taking it.

The doctor did not try to rob him of his last luxury; but he recommended certain changes in the taking of it.


Against this, however, the old Squire indignantly rebelled, and scolded Kate almost off her legs when she attempted to enforce the doctor's orders.

The old Squire indignantly rebelled, and scolded Kate when she attempted to enforce the doctor's orders.


"What the mischief does it signify," the old man said to her one evening;--"what difference will it make whether I am dead or alive, unless it is that George would turn you out of the house directly he gets it."

"What does it matter," the old man said one evening, "whether I am dead or alive? Unless George would turn you out of the house directly he gets it."


"I was not thinking of any one but yourself, sir," said Kate, with a tear in her eye.

"I was not thinking of anyone but you, sir," said Kate, with a tear in her eye.


"You won't be troubled to think of me much longer," said the Squire; and then he gulped down the remaining half of his glass of wine.

"You won't be troubled to think of me much longer," said the Squire; and he gulped down the rest of his wine.


Women always are good under such circumstances; and Kate Vavasor was one who would certainly stick to such duties as now fell to her lot.


She was eminently true and loyal to her friends, though she could be as false on their behalf as most false people can be on their own.

She was true and loyal to her friends, though she could be false on their behalf.


She was very good to the old man, tending all his wants, taking his violence with good-humour rather than with submission, not opposing him with direct contradiction when he abused his grandson, but saying little words to mitigate his wrath, if it were possible.

She tended to the old man with good-humour, not contradicting him when he abused his grandson, but saying little things to mitigate his anger.


At such times the Squire would tell her that she also would learn to know her brother's character some day.

"You'll learn his character some day," the Squire told her.


"You'll live to be robbed by him, and turned out as naked as you were born," he said to her one day.

"You'll live to be robbed by him, and turned out as naked as you were born."


Then Kate fired up and declared that she fully trusted her brother's love.

Then Kate fired up and declared that she fully trusted her brother.


Whatever faults he might have, he had been staunch to her, So she said, and the old man sneered at her for saying so.

Whatever faults he might have, he had been true to her. So she said, and the old man sneered at her for saying so.


One morning, soon after this, when she brought him up to his bedroom some mixture of thin porridge, which he still endeavoured to swallow for his breakfast, he bade her sit down, and began to talk to her about the property.

One morning, when she brought his porridge up to his bedroom, he told her to sit down, and began to talk to her about the property.


"I know you are a fool," he said, "about all matters of business;--more of a fool than even women generally are."

"I know you are a fool," he said, "about all matters of business."


To this Kate acceded with a little smile,--acknowledging that her understanding was limited.

To this Kate acceded with a little smile.


"Do you write to him a line, telling him to come here to-day,--he or one of his men,--and send it at once by Peter."

"Write and tell him to come here today - and send it at once by Peter."


Gogram was an attorney who lived at Penrith, and who was never summoned to Vavasor Hall unless the Squire had something to say about his will.

Gogram was an attorney at Penrith, who was never summoned to Vavasor Hall unless the Squire had something to say about his will.


"Don't you think you'd better put it off till you are a little stronger?"


Whereupon the Squire fired at her such a volley of oaths that she sprang off the chair on which she was sitting, and darted across to a little table at which there was pen and ink, and wrote her note to Mr. Gogram, before she had recovered from the shaking which the battery had given her.

The Squire fired such a volley of oaths at her that she sprang up and wrote at once to Mr. Gogram.


She wrote the note, and ran away with it to Peter, and saw Peter on the pony on his way to Penrith, before she dared to return to her grandfather's bedside.

She gave the note to Peter, and saw Peter depart on the pony to Penrith, before she dared to return to her grandfather's bedside.


"What should you do with the estate if I left it you?"


the Squire said to her the first moment she was again back with him.


This was a question she could not answer instantly.


She stood by his bedside for a while thinking,--holding her grandfather's hand and looking down upon the bed.

She stood by his bedside thinking, and holding her grandfather's hand.


He, with his rough watery old eyes, was gazing up into her face, as though he were trying to read her thoughts.


"I think I should give it to my brother," she said.


"Then I'm d---- if I'll leave it to you," said he.

"Then I'm d-- if I'll leave it to you," said he.


She did not jump now, though he had sworn at her.


She still stood, holding his hand softly, and looking down upon the bed.


"If I were you, grandfather," she said almost in a whisper, "I would not trust myself to alter family arrangements whilst I was ill.

"If I were you, grandfather," she said softly, "I would not trust myself to alter family arrangements whilst I was ill.


I'm sure you would advise any one else against doing so."

I'm sure you would advise anyone else against doing so."


"And if I were to leave it to Alice, she'd give it to him too," he said, speaking his thoughts out loud.

"And if I were to leave it to Alice, she'd give it to him too," he said.


"What it is you see in him, I never could even guess.

"What you see in him, I never could guess.


He's as ugly as a baboon, with his scarred face.


He has never done anything to show himself a clever fellow.


Kate, give me some of that bottle the man sent."


Kate handed him his medicine, and then stood again by his bedside.


"Where did he get the money to pay for his election?"


the Squire asked, as soon as he had swallowed the draught.


"They wouldn't give such a one as him credit a yard further than they could see him."


"I don't know where he got it," said Kate, lying.


"And what made you offer it to him after what I said to you?"


"Because it was my own," said Kate, stoutly.


"You're the biggest idiot that ever I heard of, and you'll know it yourself some day.

"You're the biggest idiot that ever I heard of.


Go away now, and let me know when Gogram comes."


She went away, and for a time employed herself about her ordinary household work.


Then she sat down alone in the dingy old dining-room, to think what had better be done in her present circumstances.

sat down alone in the dingy old dining-room, to think what had better be done.


The carpet of the room was worn out, as were also the covers of the old chairs and the horsehair sofa which was never moved from its accustomed place along the wall.

The carpet of the room was worn out, as were the chair-covers and the horsehair sofa by the wall.


It was not a comfortable Squire's residence, this old house at Vavasor.


In the last twenty years no money had been spent on furniture or embellishments, and for the last ten years there had been no painting, either inside or out.

In the last twenty years no money had been spent on furniture, and for the last ten years there had been no painting, either inside or out.


Twenty years ago the Squire had been an embarrassed man, and had taken a turn in his life and had lived sparingly.


It could not be said that he had become a miser.


His table was kept plentifully, and there had never been want in his house.


In some respects, too, he had behaved liberally to Kate and to others, and he had kept up the timber and fences on the property.

In some respects, he had behaved generously to Kate and others, and he had kept up the timber and fences on the property.


But the house had become wretched in its dull, sombre, dirty darkness, and the gardens round it were as bad.

But the house had become wretched in its dirty, sombre darkness.


She believed that her grandfather's last days were coming, and she knew that others of the family should be with him besides herself.

She believed that her grandfather's last days were coming, and she knew that other relatives should be with him when he died.


For their sakes, for his, and for her own, it would be proper that she should not be alone there when he died.


Her brother was the natural heir, and would be the head of the family.


Her duty to him was clear, and the more so as her grandfather was at this moment speaking of changes in his will.


But it was a question to her whether George's presence at Vavasor, even if he would come, would not at this moment do more harm than good to his own interests.

But George's presence at Vavasor Hall might do more harm than good to his own interests.


It would make some prejudicial change in the old man's will more probable instead of less so.

It would make some unfavourable change in the old man's will more probable.


George would not become soft and mild-spoken even by a death-bed side, and it would be likely enough that the Squire would curse his heir with his dying breath.

George would not become soft and mild-spoken even by a death-bed side.


She might send for her uncle John; but if she did so without telling George she would be treating George unfairly; and she knew that it was improbable that her uncle and her brother should act together in anything.

She might send for her uncle John; but if she did so without telling George she would be treating George unfairly.


Her aunt Greenow, she thought, would come to her, and her presence would not influence the Squire in any way with reference to the property.

Her aunt Greenow, she thought, would come to her, and her presence would not influence the Squire.


So she made up her mind at last that she would ask her aunt to come to Vavasor, and that she would tell her brother accurately all that she could tell,--leaving him to come or stay, as he might think.

So she made up her mind to ask her aunt to come to Vavasor, and to tell George all that she could, leaving him to come or stay as he thought best.


Alice would, no doubt, learn all the facts from him, and her uncle John would hear them from Alice.

Alice would, no doubt, learn the facts from him, and her uncle John would hear them from Alice.


As soon as Mr. Gogram had been there she would write her letters, and they should be sent over to Shap early on the following morning.

As soon as Mr. Gogram had been there she would write her letters, and send them off the following morning.


Mr. Gogram came and was closeted with the Squire, and the doctor also came.

Mr. Gogram came to see the Squire, and the doctor also came.


The doctor saw Kate, and, shaking his head, told her that her grandfather was sinking lower and lower every hour.

The doctor, shaking his head, told her that her grandfather was sinking lower every hour.


It would be infinitely better for him if he would take that port wine at four doses in the day, or even at two, instead of taking it all together.


Kate promised to try again, but stated her conviction that the trial would be useless.


The doctor, when pressed on the matter, said that his patient might probably live a week, not improbably a fortnight,--perhaps a month, if he would be obedient,--and so forth.

He would probably live a week, possibly a fortnight - perhaps a month, if he would be obedient.


Gogram went away without seeing Kate; and Kate, who looked upon a will as an awful and somewhat tedious ceremony, was in doubt whether her grandfather would live to complete any new operation.

Gogram went away without seeing Kate; and Kate did not know whether her grandfather had done anything with the will.


But, in truth, the will had been made and signed and witnessed,--the parish clerk and one of the tenants having been had up into the room as witnesses.

But, in truth, the will had been made and signed, and witnessed by the parish clerk and one of the tenants.


Kate knew that the men had been there, but still did not think that a new will had been perfected.


That evening when it was dusk the Squire came into the dining-room, having been shuffling about the grand sweep before the house for a quarter of an hour.

That evening at dusk the Squire came into the dining-room, after shuffling about the drive outside for a quarter of an hour.


The day was cold and the wind bleak, but still he would go out, and Kate had wrapped him up carefully in mufflers and great-coats.


Now he came in to what he called dinner, and Kate sat down with him.

Now he came in to dinner, and Kate sat down with him.


He had drank no wine that day, although she had brought it to him twice during the morning.


Now he attempted to swallow a little soup, but failed; and after that, while Kate was eating her bit of chicken, had the decanter put before him.

He attempted to swallow a little soup, but failed; and had the decanter put before him.


"I can't eat, and I suppose it won't hurt you if I take my wine at once," he said.

"I can't eat, so I will take my wine at once," he said.


It went against the grain with him, even yet, that he could not wait till the cloth was gone from the table, but his impatience for the only sustenance that he could take was too much for him.


"But you should eat something, sir; will you have a bit of toast to sop in your wine?"


The word "sop" was badly chosen, and made the old Squire angry.


why am I to spoil the only thing I can enjoy?"


"But the wine would do you more good if you would take something with it."


Then he filled his second glass, and paused awhile before he put it to his lips.

Then he filled his second glass, and paused before he put it to his lips.


He never exceeded four glasses, but the four he was determined that he would have, as long as he could lift them to his mouth.

He never exceeded four glasses, but the four he was determined to have, as long as he could lift them to his mouth.


Kate finished, or pretended to finish, her dinner within five minutes, in order that the table might be made to look comfortable for him.


Then she poked the fire, and brushed up the hearth, and closed the old curtains with her own hands, moving about silently.

Then she poked the fire, and brushed up the hearth, and closed the old curtains, moving about silently.


As she moved his eye followed her, and when she came behind his chair, and pushed the decanter a little more within his reach, he put out his rough, hairy hand, and laid it upon one of hers which she had rested on the table, with a tenderness that was unusual with him.

When she came past his chair, he put out his rough hand, and laid it upon one of hers with a tenderness that was unusual for him.


"If I had, I shouldn't, perhaps, have been here to take care of you," she said, smiling.

"If I had, I shouldn't have been here to take care of you," she said, smiling.


"No; you'd have been like your brother, no doubt.


Not that I think there could have been two so bad as he is."

Though there could not have been two so bad as he is."


"Oh, grandfather, if he has offended you, you should try to forgive him."


How often have I forgiven him without any trying?


Why did he come down here the other day, and insult me for the last time?

Why did he come down here the other day, and insult me?


Why didn't he keep away, as I had bidden him?"

Why didn't he keep away, as I had told him?"


"But you gave him leave to see you, sir."


"I didn't give him leave to treat me like that.


Never mind; he will find that, old as I am, I can punish an insult."


"You haven't done anything, sir, to injure him?"


Do you suppose I had that man here all the way from Penrith for nothing?"


If I left him the whole property it would be gone in two years' time.


You had promised him that he should have it for his life."


As my heir, he would have had it all, if he would have behaved himself with common decency.

As my heir, he would have had it all, if he had behaved with common decency.


Even though I disliked him, as I always have done, he should have had it."

Even though I disliked him, he should have had it."


"And you have taken it from him altogether?"


"I shall answer no questions about it, Kate."


Then a fit of coughing came upon him, his four glasses of wine having been all taken, and there was no further talk about business.

Then a fit of coughing came upon him, and there was no further talk.


During the evening Kate read a chapter of the Bible out loud.


But the Squire was very impatient under the reading, and positively refused permission for a second.


"There isn't any good in so much of it, all at once," he said, using almost exactly the same words which Kate had used to him about the port wine.

"There isn't any good in so much of it, all at once."


There may have been good produced by the small quantity to which he listened, as there is good from the physic which children take with wry faces, most unwillingly.


For many weeks past Kate had begged her uncle to allow the clergyman of Vavasor to come to him; but he had positively declined.

For many weeks Kate had begged her uncle to allow the clergyman of Vavasor to come to him; but he had declined.


The vicar was a young man to whom the living had lately been given by the Chancellor, and he had commenced his career by giving instant offence to the Squire.

The vicar was a young man who had begun his career by giving instant offence to the Squire.


This vicar's predecessor had been an old man, almost as old as the Squire himself, and had held the living for forty years.


He had been a Westmoreland man, had read the prayers and preached his one Sunday sermon in a Westmoreland dialect, getting through the whole operation rather within an hour and a quarter.


He had troubled none of his parishioners by much advice, and had been meek and obedient to the Squire.


Knowing the country well, and being used to its habits, he had lived, and been charitable too, on the proceeds of his living, which had never reached two hundred a year.


But the new comer was a close-fisted man, with higher ideas of personal comfort, who found it necessary to make every penny go as far as possible, who made up in preaching for what he could not give away in charity; who established an afternoon service, and who had rebuked the Squire for saying that the doing so was trash and nonsense.

He had established an afternoon service, and then rebuked the Squire for saying that it was trash and nonsense.


Since that the Squire had never been inside the church, except on the occasion of Christmas-day.

Since then the Squire had never been inside the church, except on Christmas Day.


For this, indeed, the state of his health gave ample excuse; but he had positively refused to see the vicar, though that gentleman had assiduously called, and had at last desired the servant to tell the clergyman not to come again unless he were sent for.


Kate's task was, therefore, difficult, both as regarded the temporal and spiritual wants of her grandfather.


When the reading was finished, the old man dozed in his chair for half an hour.


He would not go up to bed before the enjoyment of that luxury.


He was daily implored to do so, because that sleep in the chair interfered so fatally with his chance of sleeping in bed.


But sleep in his chair he would and did.


Then he woke, and after a fit of coughing, was induced, with much ill-humour, to go up to his room.

Then he woke, and after a fit of coughing, was induced to go up to his room.


He was hardly able, even with her assistance and that of the old servant, to get up the broad stairs.

He was hardly able, even with her help and that of the old servant, to get up the broad stairs.


But there was still some power left to him for violence of language after he got to his room, and he rated Kate and the old woman loudly, because his slippers were not in the proper place.

But once in his room, he berated Kate and the old woman loudly, because his slippers were not in the proper place.


"Grandfather," said Kate, "would you like me to stay in the room with you to-night?"

"Grandfather," said Kate, "would you like me to stay in the room with you tonight?"


He rated her again for this proposition, and then, with assistance from the nurse, he was gotten into bed and was left alone.

He berated her again for this, and then he was got into bed and left alone.


[Illustration: The last of the old squire.]


After that Kate went to her own room and wrote her letters.


The first she wrote was to her aunt Greenow.


To Mrs. Greenow it was not necessary that she should say anything about money.


She simply stated her belief that her grandfather's last day was near at hand, and begged her aunt to come and pay a last visit to the old man.

Kate simply stated her belief that her grandfather's last day was near, and begged her aunt to come and pay him a visit.


"It will be a great comfort to me in my distress," she said; "and it will be a satisfaction to you to have seen your father again."


She knew that her aunt would come, and that task was soon done.


But her letter to her brother was much more difficult.


What should she tell him, and what should she not tell him?

What should she tell him, and what should she not?


She began by describing her grandfather's state, and by saying to him, as she had done to Mrs. Greenow, that she believed the old man's hours were well-nigh come to a close.

She began by describing her grandfather's state.


She told him that she had asked her aunt to come to her; "not," she said, "that I think her coming will be of material service, but I feel the loneliness of the house will be too much for me at such a time.

She told him that she had asked her aunt to come to her; "because," she said, "I feel the loneliness of the house will be too much for me at such a time.


I must leave it for you to decide," she said, "whether you had better be here.

I must leave it for you to decide whether you had better be here.


If anything should happen,"--people when writing such letters are always afraid to speak of death by its proper name,--"I will send you a message, and no doubt you would come at once."

If anything should happen, I will send you a message, and no doubt you would come at once."


Had it not occurred to her that her own interests were involved she would have said nothing on the subject; but she feared her brother,--feared even his misconstruction of her motives, even though she was willing to sacrifice so much on his behalf,--and therefore she resolved to tell him all that she knew.

If she was silent, she feared her brother might misconstrue her motives, even though she was willing to sacrifice so much on his behalf; and therefore she resolved to tell him all that she knew.


He might turn upon her hereafter if she did not do so, and accuse her of a silence which had been prejudicial to him.


So she told it all, and the letter became long in the telling.


"I write with a heavy heart," she said, "because I know it will be a great blow to you.


He gave me to understand that in this will he left everything away from you.


I cannot declare that he said so directly.


Indeed I cannot remember his words; but that was the impression he left on me.


The day before he had asked me what I should do if he gave me the estate; but of course I treated that as a joke.


I have no idea what he put into his will.


But now I have told you all that I know."


The letter was a very long one, and was not finished till late; but when it was completed she had the two taken out into the kitchen, as the boy was to start with them before daylight.


Early on the next morning she crept silently into her grandfather's room, as was her habit; but he was apparently sleeping, and then she crept back again.

Early the next morning she crept silently into her grandfather's room; but he was apparently sleeping.


The old servant told her that the Squire had been awake at four, and at five, and at six, and had called for her.

The old servant told her that the Squire had been awake at four, and had called for her,


Four or five times in the course of the morning Kate went into the room, but her grandfather did not notice her.

Four or five times during the morning Kate went into the room, but her grandfather did not notice her


At last she feared he might already have passed away, and she put her hand upon his shoulder, and down his arm.

until she put her hand upon his shoulder.


He then gently touched her hand with his, showing her plainly that he was not only alive, but conscious.

He then gently touched her hand with his.


She then offered him food,--the thin porridge,--which he was wont to take, and the medicine.


She offered him some wine too, but he would take nothing.

She offered him food and wine, but he would take nothing.


At twelve o'clock a letter was brought to her, which had come by the post.

At twelve o'clock a letter arrived for her.


She saw that it was from Alice, and opening it found that it was very long.

She saw that it was from Alice, and was very long.


At that moment she could not read it, but she saw words in it that made her wish to know its contents as quickly as possible.

At that moment she could not read it, although she saw words in it that made her wish to know its contents as quickly as possible.


But she could not leave her grandfather then.


At two o'clock the doctor came to him, and remained there till the dusk of the evening had commenced.

At two o'clock the doctor came, and remained till evening.


Yarmouth is not a happy place for a picnic.


A picnic should be held among green things.


There should be trees, broken ground, small paths, thickets, and hidden recesses.

There should be grass, trees, small paths, thickets, and hidden recesses.


There should, if possible, be rocks, old timber, moss, and brambles.


There should certainly be hills and dales,--on a small scale; and above all, there should be running water.

There should be hills and dales - on a small scale; and above all, there should be running water.


Jones should not be able to see all Greene's movements, nor should Augusta always have her eye upon her sister Jane.


But the spot chosen for Mr. Cheesacre's picnic at Yarmouth had none of the virtues above described.

But the spot chosen for Mr. Cheesacre's picnic had none of these virtues.


Nothing was visible from the site but sand and sea.


There were no trees there and nothing green;--neither was there any running water.


But there was a long, dry, flat strand; there was an old boat half turned over, under which it was proposed to dine; and in addition to this, benches, boards, and some amount of canvas for shelter were provided by the liberality of Mr. Cheesacre.

but there was a long, dry, flat beach; there was an old boat half turned over, under which it was proposed to dine; and benches, tables, and some canvas for shelter were provided by Mr. Cheesacre.


Therefore it was called Mr. Cheesacre's picnic.


But it was to be a marine picnic, and therefore the essential attributes of other picnics were not required.


The idea had come from some boating expeditions, in which mackerel had been caught, and during which food had been eaten, not altogether comfortably, in the boats.

; an idea taken from some boating expeditions, during which food had been eaten, not altogether comfortably, in the boats.


Then a thought had suggested itself to Captain Bellfield that they might land and eat their food, and his friend Mr. Cheesacre had promised his substantial aid.

Captain Bellfield had suggested that they might land and eat their food, and his friend Mr. Cheesacre had promised his aid.


A lady had surmised that Ormesby sands would be the very place for dancing in the cool of the evening.

A lady had said that the sand would be the very place for dancing in the cool of the evening.


They might "Dance on the sand," she said, "and yet no footing seen."


And so the thing had progressed, and the picnic been inaugurated.


It was Mr. Cheesacre's picnic undoubtedly.


Mr. Cheesacre was to supply the boats, the wine, the cigars, the music, and the carpenter's work necessary for the turning of the old boat into a banqueting saloon.

Mr. Cheesacre was to supply the boats, the wine, the cigars, the music, and the carpenter's work necessary for turning the old boat into a banqueting saloon.


But Mrs. Greenow had promised to provide the eatables, and enjoyed as much of the _clat_ as the master of the festival.

But Mrs. Greenow had promised to provide the food.


She had known Mr. Cheesacre now for ten days and was quite intimate with him.


He was a stout, florid man, of about forty-five, a bachelor, apparently much attached to ladies' society, bearing no sign of age except that he was rather bald, and that grey hairs had mixed themselves with his whiskers, very fond of his farming, and yet somewhat ashamed of it when he found himself in what he considered to be polite circles.

He was a stout, florid man of about forty-five, a bachelor, apparently much attached to ladies' society, rather bald, and very fond of his farming - and yet somewhat ashamed of it in what he considered to be polite circles.


And he was, moreover, a little inclined to seek the honour which comes from a well-filled and liberally-opened purse.

He was, moreover, inclined to seek the honour which comes from a well-filled and generous purse.


He liked to give a man a dinner and then to boast of the dinner he had given.

He liked to give a man dinner and then to boast of the dinner he had given.


He was very proud when he could talk of having mounted, for a day's hunting, any man who might be supposed to be of higher rank than himself.


"I had Grimsby with me the other day,--the son of old Grimsby of Hatherwick, you know.


I mounted him again the next day just the same."


Some people thought he was soft, for it was very well known throughout Norfolk that young Grimsby would take a mount wherever he could get it.


In these days Mrs. Greenow had become intimate with Mr. Cheesacre, and had already learned that he was the undoubted owner of his own acres.

Mrs. Greenow had already learned that he was the owner of his own acres.


"It wouldn't do for me," she had said to him, "to be putting myself forward, as if I were giving a party myself, or anything of that sort;--would it now?"

"It wouldn't do for me," she had said to him, "to be putting myself forward, as if I were giving a party myself."


"So I will, Mr. Cheesacre, for that dear girl's sake.


I should never forgive myself if I debarred her from all the pleasures of youth, because of my sorrows.

I should never forgive myself if I prevented her pleasures, because of my sorrows.


I need hardly say that at such a time as this nothing of that sort can give me any pleasure."

Just now nothing of that sort can give me any pleasure."


"I suppose not," said Mr. Cheesacre, with solemn look.

"I suppose not," said Mr. Cheesacre solemnly.


"For though as regards age I might dance on the sands as merrily as the best of them--"


"That I'm sure you could, Mrs. Greenow."


"How's a woman to enjoy herself if her heart lies buried?"

"For how is a woman to enjoy herself if her heart lies buried?"


"But it won't be so always, Mrs. Greenow."


Mrs. Greenow shook her head to show that she hardly knew how to answer such a question.


Probably it would be so always;--but she did not wish to put a damper on the present occasion by making so sad a declaration.


"But as I was saying," continued she--"if you and I do it between us won't that be the surest way of having it come off nicely?"

"But as I was saying, if you and I do it between us, won't that be best?


Mr. Cheesacre thought that it would be the best way.


"Exactly so;--I'll do the meat and pastry and fruit, and you shall do the boats and the wine."


"And the music," said Cheesacre, "and the expenses at the place."

"And the music," said Cheesacre, "and the expenses."


He did not choose that any part of his outlay should go unnoticed.


"I'll go halves in all that if you like," said Mrs. Greenow.


He did not begrudge the expense, but only wished that it should be recognised.


"And, Mr. Cheesacre," continued Mrs. Greenow.


"I did mean to send the music; I did, indeed."


"But I mention it now, because I was thinking of getting Blowehard to come.

- I was thinking of getting Blowhard to come."


That other man, Flutey, wouldn't do at all out in the open air."


"It shall be Blowehard," said Mr. Cheesacre; and it was Blowehard.

"It shall be Blowhard," said Mr. Cheesacre.


Mrs. Greenow liked to have her own way in these little things, though her heart did lie buried.


On the morning of the picnic Mr. Cheesacre came down to Montpelier Parade with Captain Bellfield, whose linen on that occasion certainly gave no outward sign of any quarrel between him and his washerwoman.

On the morning of the picnic Mr. Cheesacre came to Montpelier Parade with Captain Bellfield, whose linen that day certainly gave no sign of any quarrel with his washerwoman.


He was got up wonderfully, and was prepared at all points for the day's work.


He had on a pseudo-sailor's jacket, very liberally ornamented with brass buttons, which displayed with great judgement the exquisite shapes of his pseudo-sailor's duck trousers.

in a pseudo-sailor's jacket, liberally ornamented with brass buttons, a fine white waistcoat, and pseudo-sailor's trousers.


Beneath them there was a pair of very shiny patent-leather shoes, well adapted for dancing on the sand, presuming him to be anxious of doing so, as Venus offered to do, without leaving any footmarks.

He wore a pair of very shiny patent-leather shoes, well adapted for dancing on the sand.


His waistcoat was of a delicate white fabric, ornamented with very many gilt buttons.


He had bejewelled studs in his shirt, and yellow kid gloves on his hands; having, of course, another pair in his pocket for the necessities of the evening.


His array was quite perfect, and had stricken dismay into the heart of his friend Cheesacre, when he joined that gentleman.

and his appearance struck dismay into the heart of his friend Cheesacre.


He was a well-made man, nearly six feet high, with dark hair, dark whiskers, and dark moustache, nearly black, but of that suspicious hue which to the observant beholder seems always to tell a tale of the hairdresser's shop.

The captain was a tall, handsome, well-made man, whose hair and whiskers were nearly black, but of that suspicious hue which seems to tell of the hairdresser's shop.


He was handsome, too, with well-arranged features,--but carrying, perhaps, in his nose some first symptoms of the effects of midnight amusements.


Upon the whole, however, he was a nice man to look at--for those who like to look on nice men of that kind.


Cheesacre, too, had adopted something of a sailor's garb.

Cheesacre, too, had adopted a sailor's garb.


He had on a jacket of a rougher sort, coming down much lower than that of the captain, being much looser, and perhaps somewhat more like a garment which a possible seaman might possibly wear.

He had on a rougher, looser jacket than the captain's, perhaps more like a real seaman's garment.


But he was disgusted with himself the moment that he saw Bellfield.


His heart had been faint, and he had not dared to ornament himself boldly as his friend had done.


"I say, Guss, you are a swell," he exclaimed.


It may be explained that Captain Bellfield had been christened Gustavus.


"I don't know much about that," said the captain; "my fellow sent me this toggery, and said that it was the sort of thing.

"I don't know about that," said the captain.


But Cheesacre could not have worn that jacket, and he walked on, hating himself.


It will be remembered that Mrs. Greenow had spoken with considerable severity of Captain Bellfield's pretensions when discussing his character with her niece; but, nevertheless, on the present occasion she received him with most gracious smiles.

It will be remembered that Mrs. Greenow had spoken severely of Captain Bellfield's pretensions when discussing him with her niece; nevertheless, on this occasion she received him with most gracious smiles.


It may be that her estimate of his character had been altered, or that she was making sacrifice of her own feelings in consideration of Mr. Cheesacre, who was known to be the captain's intimate friend.


But she had smiles for Mr. Cheesacre too.


She had a wondrous power of smiling; and could, upon occasion, give signs of peculiar favour to half a dozen different gentlemen in as many minutes.

She had a wondrous power of smiling; and could, at times, favour half a dozen different gentlemen in as many minutes.


They found her in the midst of hampers which were not yet wholly packed, while Mrs. Jones, Jeannette, and the cook of the household moved around her, on the outside of the circle, ministering to her wants.

They found her in the midst of half-packed hampers, while Mrs. Jones, Jeannette, and the cook moved around her.


She had in her hand an outspread clean napkin, and she wore fastened round her dress a huge coarse apron, that she might thus be protected from some possible ebullition of gravy, or escape of salad mixture, or cream; but in other respects she was clothed in the fullest honours of widowhood.

She wore a huge apron, to protect her dress from any possible escape of cream or gravy; but otherwise she was clothed in full mourning.


She had not mitigated her weeds by half an inch.


She had scorned to make any compromise between the world of pleasure and the world of woe.


There she was, a widow, declared by herself to be of four months' standing, with a buried heart, making ready a dainty banquet with skill and liberality.

There she was, a widow of four months' standing, with a buried heart, skilfully making ready a dainty banquet.


She was ready on the instant to sit down upon the baskets in which the grouse pie had been just carefully inhumed, and talked about her sainted lamb with a deluge of tears.


If anybody didn't like it, that person--might do the other thing.


Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfield thought that they did like it.

Mr. Cheesacre and Captain Bellfield were charmed.


"Oh, Mr. Cheesacre, if you haven't caught me before I've half done!


Captain Bellfield, I hope you think my apron becoming."


"Everything that you wear, Mrs. Greenow, is always becoming."


"Don't talk in that way when you know--; but never mind--we will think of nothing sad to-day if we can help it.

"Don't talk in that way when - but never mind; we will think of nothing sad today.


"Oh dear no; I should think not;--unless it should come on to rain."

"Oh dear no; unless it should happen to rain."


"It won't rain--we won't think of such a thing.


But, by the by, Captain Bellfield, I and my niece do mean to send out a few things, just in a bag you know, so that we may tidy ourselves up a little after the sea.

By the by, Captain Bellfield, I and my niece mean to send ahead a few things in a bag, so that we may tidy ourselves up a little after the sea.


I don't want it mentioned, because if it gets about among the other ladies, they'd think we wanted to make a dressing of it;--and there wouldn't be room for them all; would there?"

I don't want it mentioned, because if it gets about among the other ladies, they'd think we wanted to dress up; and there wouldn't be room for them all, would there?"


"No; there wouldn't," said Mr. Cheesacre, who had been out on the previous evening, inspecting, and perhaps limiting, the carpenters in their work.


"But there won't be any harm, will there, Mr. Cheesacre, in Jeanette's going out with our things?

"But you don't mind Jeanette's going with our things?


She'll ride in the cart, you know, with the eatables.

She'll ride in the cart, you know, with the food."


"We shall be delighted to have Jeanette," said Mr. Cheesacre.


"Thank ye, sir," said Jeannette, with a curtsey.


"Jeannette, don't you let Mr. Cheesacre turn your head; and mind you behave yourself and be useful.


Mrs. Jones, you might as well give me that ham now.


Don't you put it into the basket, because you'd turn it the wrong side down.

don't you put it into the basket upside down.


There now, if you haven't nearly made me upset the apricot pie."


Then, in the transfer of the dishes between the captain and the widow, there occurred some little innocent by-play, which seemed to give offence to Mr. Cheesacre; so that that gentleman turned his back upon the hampers and took a step away towards the door.

Some innocent little by-play in the transfer of the dishes seemed to give offence to Mr. Cheesacre; he turned his back upon the hampers and stepped towards the door.


Mrs. Greenow saw the thing at a glance, and immediately applied herself to cure the wound.

Mrs. Greenow saw this at a glance, and immediately applied herself to cure the wound.


"What do you think, Mr. Cheesacre," said she, "Kate wouldn't come down because she didn't choose that you should see her with an apron on over her frock!"

"What do you think, Mr. Cheesacre," said she, "Kate wouldn't come down because she didn't want you to see her with an apron on!"


"I'm sure I don't know why Miss Vavasor should care about my seeing her."

"I'm sure I don't know why Miss Vavasor should care about that."


Do step up into the drawing-room; you'll find her there, and you can make her answer for herself."

Do step into the drawing-room; you'll find her there, and you can make her answer for herself."


"She wouldn't come down for me," said Mr. Cheesacre.


Perhaps he wasn't willing to leave his friend with the widow.


At length the last of the dishes was packed and Mrs. Greenow went up-stairs with the two gentlemen.

At length the food was packed and Mrs. Greenow went upstairs with the two gentlemen.


There they found Kate and two or three other ladies who had promised to embark under the protection of Mrs. Greenow's wings.


There were the two Miss Fairstairs, whom Mrs. Greenow had especially patronized, and who repaid that lady for her kindness by an amount of outspoken eulogy which startled Kate by its audacity.

come: including the two Miss Fairstairs, whom Mrs. Greenow had patronized, and who repaid that lady for her kindness by an amount of outspoken praise which startled Kate.


Fanny Fairstairs had said on coming into the room.


"I don't think I ever came across a woman with such genuine milk of human kindness!"

"I don't think I ever came across a woman with such milk of human kindness!"


"Nor with so much true wit," said her sister Charlotte,--who had been called Charlie on the sands of Yarmouth for the last twelve years.

"Or so much true wit," said her sister Charlotte - who had been called Charlie in Yarmouth for the last twelve years.


When the widow came into the room, they flew at her and devoured her with kisses, and swore that they had never seen her looking so well.

When the widow came into the room, they devoured her with kisses, and swore that they had never seen her looking so well.


But as the bright new gloves which both the girls wore had been presents from Mrs. Greenow, they certainly did owe her some affection.

But as the girls' bright new gloves had been presents from Mrs. Greenow, they certainly did owe her some affection.


There are not many ladies who would venture to bestow such gifts upon their friends after so very short an acquaintance; but Mrs. Greenow had a power that was quite her own in such matters.

Not many ladies would bestow such gifts upon their friends after so very short an acquaintance.


She was already on a very confidential footing with the Miss Fairstairs, and had given them much useful advice as to their future prospects.


And then was there a Mrs. Green, whose husband was first-lieutenant on board a man-of-war on the West Indian Station.

And then was there a Mrs. Green, whose husband was first-lieutenant on board a man-of-war in the West Indies.


Mrs. Green was a quiet, ladylike little woman, rather pretty, very silent, and, as one would have thought, hardly adapted for the special intimacy of Mrs. Greenow.

Mrs. Green was a quiet, ladylike little woman, very silent, and, one would have thought, hardly adapted to be a friend of Mrs. Greenow.


But Mrs. Greenow had found out that she was alone, not very rich, and in want of the solace of society.

But Mrs. Greenow had found out that she was alone, not very rich, and in need of society.


Therefore she had, from sheer good-nature, forced herself upon Mrs. Green, and Mrs. Green, with much trepidation, had consented to be taken to the picnic.

Therefore she had good-naturedly forced Mrs. Green to come to the picnic.


"I know your husband would like it," Mrs. Greenow had said, "and I hope I may live to tell him that I made you go."


There came in also a brother of the Fairstairs girls, Joe Fairstairs, a lanky, useless, idle young man, younger than them, who was supposed to earn his bread in an attorney's office at Norwich, or rather to be preparing to earn it at some future time, and who was a heavy burden upon all his friends.

There came in also a younger brother of the Fairstairs girls, Joe Fairstairs, a lanky, useless, idle young man, who was supposed to earn his bread in an attorney's office at Norwich.


"We told Joe to come to the house," said Fanny to the widow, apologetically, "because we thought he might be useful in carrying down the cloaks."

"We told Joe to come to the house," said Fanny to the widow, apologetically, "because we thought he might be useful in carrying the cloaks."


Mrs. Greenow smiled graciously upon Joe, and assured him that she was charmed to see him, without any reference to such services as those mentioned.

Mrs. Greenow smiled graciously upon Joe, and assured him that she was charmed to see him.


When they got to the door both Cheesacre and the captain made an attempt to get possession of the widow's arm.

Both Cheesacre and the captain tried to take the widow's arm


Captain Bellfield found himself constrained to attend to Mrs. Green, while Mr. Cheesacre walked down to the beach beside Kate Vavasor.

"I'll take your arm, Mr. Joe," said she, and Captain Bellfield found himself obliged to attend to Mrs. Green, while Mr. Cheesacre walked to the beach beside Kate Vavasor.


"I'll take your arm, Mr. Joe," said the widow, "and the girls shall come with us."


But when they got to the boats, round which the other comers to the picnic were already assembled, Mr. Cheesacre,--although both the boats were for the day his own,--found himself separated from the widow.

When they got to the boats, where the other picnickers were assembled, Mr. Cheesacre found himself separated from the widow.


He got into that which contained Kate Vavasor, and was shoved off from the beach while he saw Captain Bellfield arranging Mrs. Greenow's drapery.

He got into the boat which contained Kate Vavasor, and was shoved off from the beach while he saw Captain Bellfield arranging Mrs. Greenow's cloak.


He had declared to himself that it should be otherwise; and that as he had to pay the piper, the piper should play as he liked it.


But Mrs. Greenow with a word or two had settled it all, and Mr. Cheesacre had found himself to be powerless.


"How absurd Bellfield looks in that jacket, doesn't he?"


he said to Kate, as he took his seat in the boat.


I thought it was so very pretty and becoming for the occasion."

I thought it very becoming for the occasion."


Mr. Cheesacre hated Captain Bellfield, and regretted more than ever that he had not done something for his own personal adornment.


He could not endure to think that his friend, who paid for nothing, should carry away the honours of the morning and defraud him of the delights which should justly belong to him, "It may be becoming," said Cheesacre; "but don't you think it's awfully extravagant?"

He could not bear to think that his friend, who paid for nothing, should defraud him of the delights which should justly belong to him.
"It may be becoming," said he; "but it's dreadfully extravagant!


You see I don't at all know what is the price of a jacket covered all over with little brass buttons."


"The waistcoat I should think must have been expensive."


and he's got nothing, Miss Vavasor; literally nothing.

and he's got no money, Miss Vavasor; literally nothing.


Do you know,"--and he reduced his voice to a whisper as he made this communication,--"I lent him twenty pounds the day before yesterday; I did indeed.

Do you know," and he reduced his voice to a whisper, "I lent him twenty pounds the other day.


I tell you, because, as you are seeing a good deal of him just now, I think it right that you should know on what sort of a footing he stands."

As you are seeing a good deal of him just now, I think it right that you should know."


It's all fair, they say, in love and war, and this small breach of confidence was, we must presume, a love stratagem on the part of Mr. Cheesacre.

All's fair, they say, in love and war, and this small breach of confidence was a love stratagem.


He was at this time smitten with the charms both of the widow and of the niece, and he constantly found that the captain was interfering with him on whichever side he turned himself.

Mr. Cheesacre was smitten with the charms both of the widow and the niece, and he constantly found that the captain was interfering with him.


On the present occasion he had desired to take the widow for his share, and was, upon the whole, inclined to think that the widow was the more worthy of his attentions.

On this occasion he had desired to take the widow for his share, and was, upon the whole, inclined to think she was the more worthy of his attentions.


He had made certain little inquiries within the last day or two, the answers to which had been satisfactory.


These he had by no means communicated to his friend, to whom, indeed, he had expressed an opinion that Mrs. Greenow was after all only a flash in the pan.


"She does very well pour passer le temps," the captain had answered.


Mr. Cheesacre had not quite understood the exact gist of the captain's meaning, but had felt certain that his friend was playing him false.


"I don't want it to be mentioned again, Miss Vavasor," he continued.

"You won't mention it, of course, Miss Vavasor," he continued.


"Such things should not be mentioned at all," Kate replied, having been angered at the insinuation that the nature of Captain Bellfield's footing could be a matter of any moment to her.


"No, they shouldn't; and therefore I know that I'm quite safe with you, Miss Vavasor.


He's a very pleasant fellow, very; and has seen the world,--uncommon; but he's better for eating and drinking with than he is for buying and selling with, as we say in Norfolk.

"Bellfield's a very pleasant fellow, and has seen the world; but he's better for eating and drinking with than he is for buying and selling with, as we say in Norfolk.


"I never was in it before, and now I've only seen Yarmouth."

"I never was here before, and I've only seen Yarmouth."


"A nice place, Yarmouth, very; but you should come up and see our lands.

"A nice place, Yarmouth; but you should come and see our lands.


I suppose you don't know that we feed one-third of England during the winter months."

We feed one-third of England during the winter months."


"We do, though; nobody knows what a county Norfolk is.


Taking it altogether, including the game you know, and Lord Nelson, and its watering-places and the rest of it, I don't think there's a county in England to beat it.

altogether, I don't think there's a county in England to beat Norfolk.


Fancy feeding one-third of all England and Wales!"


"With bread and cheese, do you mean, and those sort of things?"


said Mr. Cheesacre, and in his patriotic energy he repeated the word aloud.


Yes indeed; but if you were to tell them that in London they wouldn't believe you.


you should certainly come down and see our lands.

you should certainly come and see our lands.


The 7.45 A.M. train would take you through Norwich to my door, as one may say, and you would be back by the 6.22 P.M." In this way he brought himself back again into good-humour, feeling, that in the absence of the widow, he could not do better than make progress with the niece.

The 7.45 a.m. train would take you through Norwich to my door, as one may say, and you would be back by the 6.22 p.m." In this way he brought himself back into good-humour, feeling that in the absence of the widow, he made good progress with the niece.


In the mean time Mrs. Greenow and the captain were getting on very comfortably in the other boat.

In the meantime Mrs. Greenow and the captain were getting on very comfortably in the other boat.


"Take an oar, Captain," one of the men had said to him as soon as he had placed the ladies.


"I'll content myself with being bo'san this morning."


"The best thing as the bo'san does is to pipe all hands to grog," said the man.


"I won't be behind in that either," said the captain; and so they all went on swimmingly.


"What a fine generous fellow your friend, Mr. Cheesacre, is!"


"Yes, he is; he's a capital fellow in his way.

"Yes; he's a capital fellow in his way, for a farmer."


Some of these Norfolk farmers are no end of good fellows."


"And I suppose he's something more than a common farmer.

"I suppose he's something more than a common farmer.


He's visited by the people about where he lives, isn't he?"


The county people, you know, keep themselves very much to themselves."


But his house;--he has a good sort of place, hasn't he?"

He has a good sort of place, hasn't he?"


"Yes, yes;--a very good house;--a little too near to the horse-pond for my taste.

"Yes, yes; a very good house; - a little too near to the horse-pond for my taste."


But when a man gets his money out of the till, he mustn't be ashamed of the counter;--must he, Mrs. Greenow?"


"But he could live like a gentleman if he let his own land, couldn't he?"


"That depends upon how a gentleman wishes to live."


Here the privacy of their conversation was interrupted by an exclamation from a young lady to the effect that Charlie Fairstairs was becoming sick.

Here they were interrupted by an exclamation from a young lady that Charlie Fairstairs was feeling sick


This Charlie stoutly denied, and proved the truth of her assertion by her behaviour.


Soon after this they completed their marine adventures, and prepared to land close to the spot at which the banquet was prepared.

they prepared to land close to the spot at which the banquet was prepared.


There had been a pretence of fishing, but no fish had been caught.


It was soon found that such an amusement would interfere with the ladies' dresses, and the affairs had become too serious to allow of any trivial interruption.


"I really think, Mr. Cheesacre," an anxious mother had said, "that you'd better give it up.


The water off the nasty cord has got all over Maria's dress, already."


Maria made a faint protest that it did not signify in the least; but the fishing was given up,--not without an inward feeling on the part of Mr. Cheesacre that if Maria chose to come out with him in his boat, having been invited especially to fish, she ought to have put up with the natural results.

and the fishing was given up, to Mr. Cheesacre's indignation.


"There are people who like to take everything and never like to give anything," he said to Kate afterwards, as he was walking up with her to the picnic dinner.

"Some people like to take everything and never give anything," he said to Kate afterwards, as he was walking with her to the picnic dinner.


The girls had graced his party with their best hats and freshest muslins, not that they might see him catch a mackerel, but that they might flirt and dance to the best advantage.


"You can't suppose that any girl will like to be drenched with sea-water when she has taken so much trouble with her starch," said Kate.

"You can't suppose that any girl will like to be drenched with sea-water when she has taken so much trouble with her dress," said Kate.


"Then she shouldn't come fishing," said Mr. Cheesacre.


But when they arrived at the old boat, Mrs. Greenow shone forth pre-eminently as the mistress of the occasion, altogether overshadowing Mr. Cheesacre by the extent of her authority.

When they arrived at the old boat, Mrs. Greenow was the mistress of the occasion, altogether overshadowing Mr. Cheesacre.


There was a little contest for supremacy between them, invisible to the eyes of the multitude; but Mr. Cheesacre in such a matter had not a chance against Mrs. Greenow.

There was a little contest for supremacy between them, invisible to most eyes; but Mr. Cheesacre had not a chance against Mrs. Greenow.


I am disposed to think that she would have reigned even though she had not contributed to the eatables; but with that point in her favour, she was able to make herself supreme.


Jeannette, too, was her servant, which was a great thing.


Mr. Cheesacre soon gave way; and though he bustled about and was conspicuous, he bustled about in obedience to orders received, and became a head servant.

He soon gave way; and though he bustled about, it was in obedience to her orders.


Captain Bellfield also made himself useful, but he drove Mr. Cheesacre into paroxysms of suppressed anger by giving directions, and by having those directions obeyed.

Captain Bellfield also made himself useful, but he drove Mr. Cheesacre into paroxysms of suppressed anger by giving directions.


A man to whom he had lent twenty pounds the day before yesterday, and who had not contributed so much as a bottle of champagne!

A man to whom he had lent twenty pounds, and who had not contributed so much as a bottle of champagne!


"We're to dine at four, and now it's half-past three," said Mrs. Greenow, addressing herself to the multitude.

"We're to dine at four," said Mrs. Greenow.


"And to begin to dance at six," said an eager young lady.

"And we begin to dance at six," said an eager young lady.


"Maria, hold your tongue," said the young lady's mother.


"Yes, we'll dine at four," said Mr. Cheesacre.


"And as for the music, I've ordered it to be here punctual at half-past five.


We're to have three horns, cymbals, triangle, and a drum."


"How very nice; isn't it, Mrs. Greenow?"


"And now suppose we begin to unpack," said Captain Bellfield.

"And now suppose we unpack," said Captain Bellfield.


"Half the fun is in arranging the things."


"Oh, dear, yes; more than half," said Fanny Fairstairs.


"Bellfield, don't mind about the hampers," said Cheesacre.


"Wine is a ticklish thing to handle, and there's my man there to manage it."


"It's odd if I don't know more about wine than the boots from the hotel," said Bellfield.

"I know more about wine than the boot-man from the hotel," said Bellfield.


This allusion to the boots almost cowed Mr. Cheesacre, and made him turn away, leaving Bellfield with the widow.

This made Mr. Cheesacre turn away, leaving Bellfield with the widow.


There was a great unpacking, during which Captain Bellfield and Mrs. Greenow constantly had their heads in the same hamper.


I by no means intend to insinuate that there was anything wrong in this.


People engaged together in unpacking pies and cold chickens must have their heads in the same hamper.


But a great intimacy was thereby produced, and the widow seemed to have laid aside altogether that prejudice of hers with reference to the washerwoman.

But the widow seemed to have laid aside her prejudice regarding the washerwoman.


There was a long table placed on the sand, sheltered by the upturned boat from the land side, but open towards the sea, and over this, supported on poles, there was an awning.

There was a long table placed on the sand, with an awning over it.


Upon the whole the arrangement was not an uncomfortable one for people who had selected so very uncomfortable a dining-room as the sand of the sea-shore.

On the whole it was a more comfortable arrangement


Much was certainly due to Mr. Cheesacre for the expenditure he had incurred,--and something perhaps to Captain Bellfield for his ingenuity in having suggested it.

than might be expected; and this owed much to Mr. Cheesacre's expenditure.


Now came the placing of the guests for dinner, and Mr. Cheesacre made another great effort.

With the placing of the guests for dinner, Mr. Cheesacre made another great effort.


"I'll tell you what," he said, aloud, "Bellfield and I will take the two ends of the table, and Mrs. Greenow shall sit at my right hand."

"Bellfield and I will take the two ends of the table," he announced, "and Mrs. Greenow shall sit at my right hand."


This was not only boldly done, but there was a propriety in it which at first sight seemed to be irresistible.


Much as he had hated and did hate the captain, he had skilfully made the proposition in such a way as to flatter him, and it seemed for a few moments as though he were going to have it all his own way.


But Captain Bellfield was not a man to submit to defeat in such a matter as this without an effort.


"I don't think that will do," said Captain Bellfield.


"Mrs. Greenow gives the dinner, and Cheesacre gives the wine.


We must have them at the two ends of the table.


I am sure Mrs. Greenow won't refuse to allow me to hand her to the place which belongs to her.


I will sit at her right hand and be her minister."


Mrs. Greenow did not refuse,--and so the matter was adjusted.

Mrs. Greenow did not refuse, and so the matter was settled.


It was nothing to him that he had Kate Vavasor at his left hand.

It was nothing to him that he had Kate Vavasor beside him.


He liked talking to Kate very well, but he could not enjoy that pleasure while Captain Bellfield was in the very act of making progress with the widow.

He liked talking to Kate, but he could not enjoy himself while Captain Bellfield was talking to the widow.


"One would think that he had given it himself; wouldn't you?"


he said to Maria's mother, who sat at his right hand.

he said to Maria's mother, who sat on his right.


The lady did not in the least understand him.


"Why, the music and the wine and all the rest of it.


There are some people full of that kind of impudence.


How they manage to carry it on without ever paying a shilling, I never could tell.


I know I have to pay my way, and something over and beyond generally."


She had other daughters there besides Maria, and was looking down the table to see whether they were judiciously placed.


Her beauty, her youngest one, Ophelia, was sitting next to that ne'er-do-well Joe Fairstairs, and this made her unhappy.

her youngest and prettiest one, Ophelia, was sitting next to that ne'er-do-well Joe Fairstairs.


"Ophelia, my dear, you are dreadfully in the draught; there's a seat up here, just opposite, where you'll be more comfortable."

"Ophelia, my dear, you are dreadfully in the draught; there's a seat up here where you'll be more comfortable."


"There's no draught here, mamma," said Ophelia, without the slightest sign of moving.

"There's no draught here, mamma," said Ophelia, without moving.


Perhaps Ophelia liked the society of that lanky, idle, useless young man.


The mirth of the table certainly came from Mrs. Greenow's end.


The widow had hardly taken her place before she got up again and changed with the captain.

The widow got up and changed places with the captain


It was found that the captain could better carve the great grouse pie from the end than from the side.

, so that he could carve the great grouse pie.


Cheesacre, when he saw this, absolutely threw down his knife and fork violently upon the table.


Then he shook his head in grief of heart and vexation of spirit, and resumed his knife and fork.

Then he shook his head in grief and vexation.


Kate watched it all, and was greatly amused.


"I never saw a man so nearly broken-hearted," she said, in her letter to Alice the next day.


"Eleven, thirteen, eighteen, twenty-one," said Cheesacre to himself, reckoning up in his misery the number of pounds sterling which he would have to pay for being ill-treated in this way.


"Ladies and gentlemen," said Captain Bellfield, as soon as the eating was over, "if I may be permitted to get upon my legs for two minutes, I am going to propose a toast to you."

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Captain Bellfield, as soon as the eating was over, "I am going to propose a toast."


The real patron of the feast had actually not yet swallowed his last bit of cheese.

Mr. Cheesacre had actually not yet swallowed his last bit of cheese.


The thing was indecent in the violence of its injustice.

The thing was indecent in its injustice.


[Illustration: Captain Bellfield proposes a toast.]


"If you please, Captain Bellfield," said the patron, indifferent to the cheese in his throat, "I'll propose the toast."

"If you please, Captain Bellfield," said he, "I'll propose the toast."


"Nothing on earth could be better, my dear fellow," said the captain, "and I'm sure I should be the last man in the world to take the job out of the hands of one who would do it so much better than I can; but as it's your health that we're going to drink, I really don't see how you are to do it."

"Nothing on earth could be better, my dear fellow," said the captain, "but as it's your health that we're going to drink, I don't see how you are to do it."


He certainly could not propose his own health, nor did he complain of the honour that was to be done him.

He certainly could not propose his own health, nor could he complain of the honour.


It was very proper that his health should be drunk, and he had now to think of the words in which he would return thanks.

He had now to think of the words in which he would return thanks.


But the extent of his horror may be imagined when Bellfield got up and made a most brilliant speech in praise of Mrs. Greenow.


For full five minutes he went on without mentioning the name of Cheesacre.

For full five minutes he went on without mentioning Cheesacre.


Yarmouth, he said, had never in his days been so blessed as it had been this year by the presence of the lady who was now with them.

Yarmouth, he said, had never been so blessed as it had been this year by the presence of the lady who was now with them.


She had come among them, he declared, forgetful of herself and of her great sorrows, with the sole desire of adding something to the happiness of others.


Then Mrs. Greenow had taken out her pocket-handkerchief, sweeping back the broad ribbons of her cap over her shoulders.


Altogether the scene was very affecting, and Cheesacre was driven to madness.


They were the very words that he had intended to speak himself.


"I hate all this kind of thing," he said to Kate.


"After-dinner speeches never mean anything," said Kate.


At last, when Bellfield had come to an end of praising Mrs. Greenow, he told the guests that he wished to join his friend Mr. Cheesacre in the toast, the more so as it could hardly be hoped that Mrs. Greenow would herself rise to return thanks.

At last, when Bellfield had finished praising Mrs. Greenow, he told the guests that he wished to join his friend Mr. Cheesacre in the toast.


There was no better fellow than his friend Cheesacre, whom he had known for he would not say how many years.

There was no better fellow than his friend Cheesacre, whom he had known for many years.


He was quite sure they would all have the most sincere pleasure in joining the health of Mr. Cheesacre with that of Mrs. Greenow.


Then there was a clattering of glasses and a murmuring of healths, and Mr. Cheesacre slowly got upon his legs.

There was a clattering of glasses and a murmuring of healths, and Mr. Cheesacre slowly got upon his legs.


"I'm very much obliged to this company," said he, "and to my friend Bellfield, who really is,--but perhaps that doesn't signify now.

"I'm very much obliged to this company," said he, "and to my friend Bellfield.


I've had the greatest pleasure in getting up this little thing, and I'd made up my mind to propose Mrs. Greenow's health; but, h'm, ha, no doubt it has been in better hands.

I've had the greatest pleasure in getting up this little thing, and I'd made up my mind to propose Mrs. Greenow's health; but, no doubt it has been in better hands.


Perhaps, considering all things, Bellfield might have waited."


"With such a subject on my hands, I couldn't wait a moment."


"I didn't interrupt you, Captain Bellfield, and perhaps you'll let me go on without interrupting me.


We've all drunk Mrs. Greenow's health, and I'm sure she's very much obliged.


I have taken some trouble in getting up this little thing, and I hope you like it.


I think somebody said something about liberality.


I beg to assure you that I don't think of that for a moment.


Somebody must pay for these sort of things, and I'm always very glad to take my turn.


I dare say Bellfield will give us the next picnic, and if he'll appoint a day before the end of the month, I shall be happy to be one of the party."


Then he sat down with some inward satisfaction, fully convinced that he had given his enemy a fatal blow.

Then he sat down with some satisfaction, fully convinced that he had given his enemy a fatal blow.


"Nothing on earth would give me so much pleasure," said Bellfield.


After that he turned again to Mrs. Greenow and went on with his private conversation.

He turned back to his conversation with Mrs. Greenow.


There was no more speaking, nor was there much time for other after-dinner ceremonies.


The three horns, the cymbals, the triangle, and the drum were soon heard tuning-up behind the banqueting-hall, and the ladies went to the further end of the old boat to make their preparations for the dance.

the three horns, the cymbals, the triangle, and the drum were soon heard tuning-up, and the ladies went to the further end of the old boat to get ready for the dance.


Then it was that the thoughtful care of Mrs. Greenow, in having sent Jeannette with brushes, combs, clean handkerchiefs, and other little knick-knackeries, became so apparent.

Then the thoughtful care of Mrs. Greenow, in having sent Jeannette with brushes, combs, and so on, became apparent.


It was said that the widow herself actually changed her cap,--which was considered by some to be very unfair, as there had been an understanding that there should be no dressing.


On such occasions ladies are generally willing to forego the advantage of dressing on the condition that other ladies shall forego the same advantage; but when this compact is broken by any special lady, the treason is thought to be very treacherous.


It is as though a fencer should remove the button from the end of his foil.


But Mrs. Greenow was so good-natured in tendering the services of Jeannette to all the young ladies, and was so willing to share with others those good things of the toilet which her care had provided, that her cap was forgiven her by the most of those present.

The widow good-naturedly offered the services of Jeannette to all the young ladies, so that they forgave her for changing her own cap.


When ladies have made up their minds to dance they will dance let the circumstances of the moment be ever so antagonistic to that exercise.

When ladies have made up their minds to dance, they will dance no matter what.


A ploughed field in February would not be too wet, nor the side of a house too uneven.

A ploughed field in February would not be too wet.


In honest truth the sands of the seashore are not adapted for the exercise.

In truth the Yarmouth sands were not adapted for the exercise


It was all very well for Venus to make the promise, but when making it she knew that Adonis would not keep her to her word.


Let any lightest-limbed nymph try it, and she will find that she leaves most palpable footing.


The sands in question were doubtless compact, firm, and sufficiently moist to make walking on them comfortable; but they ruffled themselves most uncomfortably under the unwonted pressure to which they were subjected.


Nevertheless our friends did dance on the sands; finding, however, that quadrilles and Sir Roger de Coverley suited them better than polkas and waltzes.

nevertheless our friends danced; finding, however, that sedate dances were easier than polkas and waltzes.


"No, my friend, no," Mrs. Greenow said to Mr. Cheesacre when that gentleman endeavoured to persuade her to stand up; "Kate will be delighted I am sure to join you,--but as for me, you must excuse me."

"No, my friend," Mrs. Greenow said to Mr. Cheesacre when he asked her to dance. "I am sure Kate will be delighted to join you, but you must excuse me."


But Mr. Cheesacre was not inclined at that moment to ask Kate Vavasor to dance with him.


He was possessed by an undefined idea that Kate had snubbed him, and as Kate's fortune was, as he said, literally nothing, he was not at all disposed to court her favour at the expense of such suffering to himself.

had a vague idea that Kate had snubbed him, and had no intention of courting her favour.


"I'm not quite sure that I'll dance myself," said he, seating himself in a corner of the tent by Mrs. Greenow's side.

"I'm not sure that I'll dance myself," said he, seating himself by Mrs. Greenow's side under the canvas awning.


Captain Bellfield at that moment was seen leading Miss Vavasor away to a new place on the sands, whither he was followed by a score of dancers; and Mr. Cheesacre saw that now at last he might reap the reward for which he had laboured.

Captain Bellfield led Miss Vavasor away to a new place on the sands, where he was followed by a score of dancers; and Mr. Cheesacre


He was alone with the widow, and having been made bold by wine, had an opportunity of fighting his battle, than which none better could ever be found.


He was himself by no means a poor man, and he despised poverty in others.

He was by no means a poor man, and he despised poverty in others.


It was well that there should be poor gentry, in order that they might act as satellites to those who, like himself, had money.


As to Mrs. Greenow's money, there was no doubt.


She had spread for herself, or some one else had spread for her, a report that her wealth was almost unlimited; but the forty thousand pounds was a fact, and any such innocent fault as that little fiction might well be forgiven to a woman endorsed with such substantial virtues.


Mr. Cheesacre, as he regarded her matured charms, sometimes felt that he should have been smitten even without the forty thousand pounds.

Mr. Cheesacre felt that he should have been smitten even without the forty thousand pounds.


there's flesh and blood," he had once said to his friend Bellfield before he had begun to suspect that man's treachery.


His admiration must then have been sincere, for at that time the forty thousand pounds was not an ascertained fact.


Looking at the matter in all its bearings Mr. Cheesacre thought that he couldn't do better.

All in all, he thought that he couldn't do better.


His wooing should be fair, honest, and above board.


He was a thriving man, and what might not they two do in Norfolk if they put their wealth together?


"Oh, Mr. Cheesacre, you should join them," said Mrs. Greenow; "they'll not half enjoy themselves without you.

"Oh, Mr. Cheesacre," said Mrs. Greenow, "they'll not enjoy themselves without you.


Kate will think that you mean to neglect her."


"I shan't dance, Mrs. Greenow, unless you like to stand up for a set."

"I shan't dance, Mrs. Greenow, unless you like to stand up."


"No, my friend, no; I shall not do that.


I fear you forget how recent has been my bereavement.

I fear you forget my recent bereavement.


Your asking me is the bitterest reproach to me for having ventured to join your festive board."

Your asking me is the bitterest reproach to me for having ventured to join your party."


"Upon my honour I didn't mean it, Mrs. Greenow."


There isn't a man or woman in Norfolk that wouldn't say I was manly."


"And what are your faults, Mr. Cheesacre?"


But it's only in these kind of things you know, when I spend a little money for the sake of making my friends happy.

But it's only in these kind of things you know, when I want to make my friends happy.


When I'm about, on the lands at home, I ain't extravagant, I can tell you."


"Oh, I ain't extravagant in that sense;--not a bit in the world.


But when a man's enamoured, and perhaps looking out for a wife, he does like to be a little free, you know."


"And are you looking out for a wife, Mr. Cheesacre?"


"If I told you I suppose you'd only laugh at me."

"If I told you, you'd only laugh at me."


I am not given to joking when any one that I regard speaks to me seriously."


When one has really got a serious thing to say, one doesn't like to have fun poked at one."


"And, besides, how could I laugh at marriages, seeing how happy I have been in that condition?--so--very--happy," and Mrs. Greenow put up her handkerchief to her eyes.

How could I laugh at marriages, seeing how happy I have been in mine? " and Mrs. Greenow put her handkerchief to her eyes.


"So happy that you'll try it again some day; won't you?"

"So happy that you'll try it again some day?"


Is that the way you talk of serious things without joking?


Anything like love--love of that sort--is over for me.


It lies buried under the sod with my poor dear departed saint."


"But, Mrs. Greenow,"--and Cheesacre, as he prepared to argue the question with her, got nearer to her in the corner behind the table,--"But, Mrs. Greenow, care killed a cat, you know."

"But, Mrs. Greenow," and Cheesacre came closer to her, "Mrs. Greenow,


"And sometimes I think that care will kill me."


"No, by George; not if I can prevent it."


"You're very kind, Mr. Cheesacre; but there's no preventing such care as mine."


I'll tell you what, Mrs. Greenow; I'm in earnest, I am indeed.


If you'll inquire, you'll find there isn't a fellow in Norfolk pays his way better than I do, or is better able to do it.

There isn't a fellow in Norfolk pays his way better than I do.


I don't pay a sixpence of rent, and I sit upon seven hundred acres of as good land as there is in the county.

I don't pay a sixpence of rent, and I have seven hundred acres of as good land as there is in the county.


There's not an acre that won't do me a bullock and a half.


Just put that and that together, and see what it comes to.


And, mind you, some of these fellows that farm their own land are worse off than if they'd rent to pay.


They've borrowed so much to carry on with, that the interest is more than rent.


I don't owe a sixpence to ere a man or ere a company in the world.


I can walk into every bank in Norwich without seeing my master.


There ain't any of my paper flying about, Mrs. Greenow.


I'm Samuel Cheesacre of Oileymead, and it's all my own."


Mr. Cheesacre, as he thus spoke of his good fortunes and firm standing in the world, became impetuous in the energy of the moment, and brought down his fist powerfully on the slight table before them.

Mr. Cheesacre brought down his fist powerfully on the slight table.


The whole fabric rattled, and the boat resounded, but the noise he had made seemed to assist him.


"It's all my own, Mrs. Greenow, and the half of it shall be yours if you'll please to take it;" then he stretched out his hand to her, not as though he intended to grasp hers in a grasp of love, but as if he expected some hand-pledge from her as a token that she accepted the bargain.

"It's all my own, Mrs. Greenow, and the half of it shall be yours if you'll please to take it." He stretched out his hand to her, as if he expected her to shake it in acceptance of the bargain.


"If you'd known Greenow, Mr. Cheesacre--"


"I've no doubt he was a very good sort of man."


"If you'd known him, you would not have addressed me in this way."


My idea is that care killed a cat, as I said before.


I never knew what was the good of being unhappy.


If I find early mangels don't do on a bit of land, then I sow late turnips; and never cry after spilt milk.


Greenow was the early mangels; I'll be the late turnips.


There ain't a bedroom in my house,--not one of the front ones,--that isn't mahogany furnished!"

There ain't a bedroom in my house - the front ones - that isn't mahogany furnished!"


said Mrs. Greenow, with her handkerchief to her eyes.


Just at this moment Maria's mother stepped in under the canvas.


Mr. Cheesacre felt that he was progressing well, and was conscious that he had got safely over those fences in the race which his bashfulness would naturally make difficult to him.

Mr. Cheesacre felt that he was progressing well.


He knew that he had done this under the influence of the champagne, and was aware that it might not be easy to procure again a combination of circumstances that would be so beneficial to him.


But now he was interrupted just as he was expecting success.