ed by this speech, and still more by her
husband's consternation and displeasure. To do Mrs. Dale justice,
whenever her mild partner was really either grieved or offended, her
little temper vanished,--she became as meek as a lamb. As soon as she
recovered the first shock she experienced, she hastened to dissipate the
parson's apprehensions. She assured him that she was convinced that, if
the squire disapproved of Riccabocca's pretensions, the Italian would
withdraw them at once, and Miss Hazeldean would never know of his
proposals. Therefore, in that case, no harm would be done.

This assurance, coinciding with Mr. Dale's convictions as to
Riccabocca's scruples on the point of honour, tended much to compose
the good man; and if he did not, as my reader of the gentler sex would
expect from him, feel alarm lest Miss Jemima's affections should have
been irretrievably engaged, and her happiness thus put in jeopardy by
the squire's refusal, it was not that the parson wanted tenderness of
heart, but experience in womankind; and he believed, very erroneously,
that Miss Jemima Hazeldean was not one upon whom a disappointment of
that kind would produce a lasting impression. Therefore Mr. Dale, after
a pause of consideration, said kindly,--

"Well, don't vex yourself,--and I was to blame quite as much as you.
But, indeed, I should have thought it easier for the squire to have
transplanted one of his tall cedars into his kitchen-garden than for you
to inveigle Dr. Riccabocca into matrimonial intentions. But a man who
could voluntarily put himself into the parish stocks for the sake of
experiment must be capable of anything! However, I think it better that
I, rather than yourself, should speak to the squire, and I will go at
once."

CHAPTER XXIV.

The parson put on the shovel-hat, which--conjoined with other details in
his dress peculiarly clerical, and already, even then, beginning to be
out of fashion with Churchmen--had served to fix upon him emphatically
the dignified but antiquated style and cognomen of "Parson;" and took
his way towards the Home Farm, at which he expected to find the squire.
But he had scarcely entered upon the village green when he beheld Mr.
Hazeldean, leaning both hands on his stick, and gazing intently upon
the parish stocks. Now, sorry am I to say that, ever since the Hegira
of Lenny and his mother, the Anti-Stockian and Revolutionary spirit in
Hazeldean, which the memorable homily of our parso