“This is the last time we shall ever be together in this way,” said the widow to her friend.
“Oh, no,” said Cheesacre; “I hope not.”
“The last time. On Wednesday I become Mrs. Bellfield, and I need hardly say that I have many things to think of before that; but Mr. Cheesacre, I hope we are not to be strangers hereafter?” Mr. Cheesacre said that he hoped not. Oileymead would always be open to Captain and Mrs. Bellfield.
“We all know your hospitality,” said she; “it is not today nor tomorrow that I or my husband—that is to be—will have to learn that. He always declares that you are the very beau ideal of an English country gentleman.”
“Merely a poor Norfolk farmer,” said Cheesacre. “I never want to put myself beyond my own place. There has been some talk about the Commission of the Peace, but I don’t think anything of it.”
“It has been the greatest blessing in the world for him that he has ever known you,” said Mrs. Greenow, still talking about her future husband.
“I’ve tried to be good-natured; that’s all. D⸺ me, Mrs. Greenow, what’s the use of living if one doesn’t try to be good-natured? There isn’t a better fellow than Bellfield living. He and I ran for the same plate, and he has won it. He’s a lucky fellow, and I don’t begrudge him his luck.”
“That’s so manly of you, Mr. Cheesacre! But, indeed, the plate you speak of was not worth your running for.”
“I may have my own opinion about that, you know.”
“It was not. Nobody knows that as well as I do, or could have thought over the whole matter so often. I know very well what my mission is in life. The mistress of your house, Mr. Cheesacre, should not be any man’s widow.”
“She wouldn’t be a widow then, you know.”
“A virgin heart should be yours; and a virgin heart may be yours, if you choose to accept it.”
“Oh, bother!”
“If you choose to take my solicitude on your behalf in that way, of course I have done. You were good enough to say just now that you wished to see me and my husband in your hospitable halls. After all that has passed, do you think that I could be a visitor at your house unless there is a mistress there?”
“Upon my word, I think you might.”
“No, Mr. Cheesacre; certainly not. For all our sakes, I should decline. But if you were married—”
“You are always wanting to marry me, Mrs. Greenow.”
“I do, I do. It is the only way in which there can be any friendship between us, and not for worlds would I lose that advantage for my husband—let alone what I may feel for myself.”
“Why didn’t you take me yourself, Mrs. Greenow?”
“If you can’t understand, it is not for me to say anything more, Mr. Cheesacre. If you value the warm affection of a virgin heart—”
“Why, Mrs. Greenow, all yesterday she wouldn’t say a word to me.”
“Not say a word to you? Is that all you know about it? Are you so ignorant that you cannot see when a girl’s heart is breaking beneath her stays?” This almost improper allusion had quite an effect on Mr. Cheesacre’s sensitive bosom. “Did you say a word to her yesterday? And if not, why have you said so many words before?”
“Oh, Mrs. Greenow; come!”
“It is, oh, Mrs. Greenow. But it is time that we should go back to them.” They had been sitting all this time on a bank, under a hedge. “We will have our tea, and you shall have your pipe and brandy-and-water, and Charlie shall bring it to you. Shall she, Mr. Cheesacre?”
“If she likes she shall, of course.”
“Do you ask her, and she’ll like it quick enough. But remember, Mr. Cheesacre, I’m quite serious in what I say about your having a mistress for your house. Only think what an age you’ll be when your children grow up, if you don’t marry soon now.”
They returned to the field in which they had dined, and found Charlie under the trees, with her muslin looking very fresh. “What, all a-mort?” said Mrs. Greenow. Charlie did not quite understand this, but replied that she preferred being alone. “I have told him that you should fill his pipe for him,” said Mrs. Greenow. “He doesn’t care for ladies to fill his pipe for him,” said Charlie. “Do you try,” said the widow, “while I go indoors and order the tea.”
It had been necessary to put the bait very close before Cheesacre’s eyes, or there would have been no hope that he might take it. The bait had been put so very close that we must feel sure that he saw the hook. But there are fish so silly that they will take the bait although they know the hook is there. Cheesacre understood it all. Many things he could not see, but he could see that Mrs. Greenow was trying to catch him as a husband for Charlie Fairstairs; and he knew also that he had always despised Charlie, and that no worldly advantage whatever would accrue to him by a marriage with such a girl. But there she was, and he didn’t quite know how to avoid it. She did look rather nice in her clear-starched muslin frock, and he felt that he should like to kiss her. He needn’t
