nd Mary Lowther had not as yet become the
talk of the town. After dinner Mr. Cockey proposed a glass of toddy
and a cigar, remarking that he would move a bill for dispensing
with the smoking rule for that night only, and to this also Gilmore
assented. Now that he was at Loring he did not know what to do with
himself better than drinking toddy with Mr. Cockey. Mr. Cockey
declared the bill to be carried nem. con., and the cigars and toddy
were produced. Mr. Cockey remarked that he had heard of Sir Gregory
Marrable, of Dunripple Park. He travelled in Warwickshire, and was in
the habit, as he said, of fishing up little facts. Sir Gregory wasn't
much of a man, according to his account. The estate was small and,
as Mr. Cockey fancied, a little out at elbows. Mr. Cockey thought it
all very well to be a country gentleman and a "barrow knight," as he
called it, as long as you had an estate to follow; but he thought
very little of a title without plenty of stuff. Commerce, according
to his notions, was the back bone of the nation;--and that the corps
of travelling commercial gentlemen was the back bone of trade, every
child knew. Mr. Cockey became warm and friendly as he drank his
toddy. "Now, I don't know what you are, sir," said he.

"I'm not very much of anything," said Gilmore.

"Perhaps not, sir. Let that be as it may. But a man, sir, that feels
that he's one of the supports of the commercial supremacy of this
nation ain't got much reason to be ashamed of himself."

"Not on that account, certainly."

"Nor yet on no other account, as long as he's true to his employers.
Now you talk of country gentlemen."

"I didn't talk of them," said Gilmore.

"Well,--no,--you didn't; but they do, you know. What does a country
gentleman know, and what does he do? What's the country the better of
him? He 'unts, and he shoots, and he goes to bed with his skin full
of wine, and then he gets up and he 'unts and he shoots again, and
'as his skin full once more. That's about all."

"Sometimes he's a magistrate."

"Yes, justices' justice! we know all about that. Put an old man in
prison for a week because he looks into his 'ay-field on a Sunday; or
send a young one to the treadmill for two months because he knocks
over a 'are! All them cases ought to be tried in the towns, and there
should be beaks paid as there is in London. I don't see the good of a
country gentleman. Buying and selling;--that's what the world has to
go by."

"They bu