But my lover has solid attractions, and allures me on by a description of the fat cattle which he sends to market. He is a man of substance, and should I ever become Mrs. Cheesacre, I have reason to think that I shall not be left in want. We went up to his place on a visit the other day. Oileymead is the name of my future home;--not so pretty as Nethercoats, is it? And we had such a time there! We reached the place at ten and left it at four, and he managed to give us three meals. I'm sure we had before our eyes at different times every bit of china, delf, glass, and plate in the establishment. He made us go into the cellar, and told us how much wine he had got there, and how much beer. "It's all paid for, Mrs. Greenow, every bottle of it," he said, turning round to my aunt, with a pathetic earnestness, for which I had hardly given him credit. "Everything in this house is my own; it's all paid for. I don't call anything a man's own till it's paid for. Now that jacket that Bellfield swells about with on the sands at Yarmouth,--that's not his own,--and it's not like to be either." And then he winked his eye as though bidding my aunt to think of that before she encouraged such a lover as Bellfield. He took us into every bedroom, and disclosed to us all the glories of his upper chambers. It would have done you good to see him lifting the counterpanes, and bidding my aunt feel the texture of the blankets! And then to see her turn round to me and say:--"Kate, it's simply the best-furnished house I ever went over in my life!"--"It does seem very comfortable," said I. "Comfortable!" said he. "Yes, I don't think there's anybody can say that Oileymead isn't comfortable." I did so think of you and Nethercoats. The attractions are the same;--only in the one place you would have a god for your keeper, and in the other a brute. For myself, if ever I'm to have a keeper at all, I shall prefer a man. But when we got to the farmyard his eloquence reached the highest pitch. "Mrs. Greenow," said he, "look at that," and he pointed to heaps of manure raised like the streets of a little city. "Look at that!" "There's a great deal," said my aunt. "I believe you," said he. "I've more muck upon this place here than any farmer in Norfolk, gentle or simple; I don't care who the other is." Only fancy, Alice; it may all be mine; the blankets, the wine, the muck, and the rest of it. So my aunt assured me when we got home that evening. When I remarked that the wealth had been exhibited to her and not to me, she did not affect to deny it, but treated that as a matter of no moment. "He wants a wife, my dear," she said, "and you may pick him up to-morrow by putting out your hand." When I remarked that his mind seemed to be intent on low things, and specially named the muck, she only laughed at me. "Money's never dirty," she said, "nor yet what makes money." She talks of taking lodgings in Norwich for the winter, saying that in her widowed state she will be as well there as anywhere else, and she wants me to stay with her up to Christmas. Indeed she first proposed the Norwich plan on the ground that it might be useful to me,--with a view to Mr. Cheesacre, of course; but I fancy that she is unwilling to tear herself away from Captain Bellfield. At any rate to Norwich she will go, and I have promised not to leave her before the second week in November. With all her absurdities I like her. Her faults are terrible faults, but she has not the fault of hiding them by falsehood. She is never stupid, and she is very good-natured. She would have allowed me to equip myself from head to foot at her expense, if I would have accepted her liberality, and absolutely offered to give me my trousseau if I would marry Mr. Cheesacre.

But my lover has solid attractions. He is a man of substance, and should I ever become Mrs. Cheesacre, I should not be left in want. We went to visit his place the other day. Oileymead is its name - and we had such a time there! We reached the place at ten and left it at four, and he managed to give us three meals. I'm sure we saw every bit of china, glass, and plate in the establishment. He made us go into the cellar, and told us how much wine and beer he had got there.
"It's all paid for, Mrs. Greenow, every bottle," he said with a pathetic earnestness. "I don't call anything a man's own till it's paid for. Now that jacket that Bellfield swells about with - that's not his own."
Then he took us into every bedroom, and showed us all their glories. You should have seen him bidding my aunt feel the thickness of the blankets! And she turned round to me and said:
"Kate, it's simply the best-furnished house I ever went over in my life!"
"Yes," said he, "nobody can say that Oileymead isn't comfortable." I thought of you and Nethercoats. The attractions are the same; only in the one place you would have a god for your keeper, and in the other a brute.
But when we got to the farmyard his eloquence reached the highest pitch.
"Mrs. Greenow," said he, "look at that," and he pointed to heaps of manure. "I've more muck upon this place here than any farmer in Norfolk." Only fancy, Alice; it may all be mine; the blankets, the wine, the muck, and the rest of it. So my aunt assured me when we got home that evening. When I remarked that the wealth had been exhibited to her and not to me, she did not deny it, but said, "He wants a wife, my dear, and you may have him tomorrow by putting out your hand."
When I mentioned the muck, she only laughed. "Money's never dirty," she said, "nor what makes money." She talks of taking lodgings in Norwich for the winter, and she wants me to stay with her up to Christmas. I fancy that she is unwilling to tear herself away from Captain Bellfield. At any rate, I have promised not to leave her before the second week in November. With all her absurdities and faults, I like her. She is never stupid, and she is very good-natured. She absolutely offered to give me my trousseau if I would marry Mr. Cheesacre.
