the tanning business, and having no
children to bring up to it, and only his wife to depend upon him, had
sold the good-will, the yard, and the stock as soon as he had turned his
sixtieth year. "I have worked hard all my life," he said, "and I mean to
rest for the rest of it."

At first he was heartily miserable, and wandered about with a vacant
look, having only himself to look after. And he tried to find a hole in
his bargain with the man who enjoyed all the smells he was accustomed
to, and might even be heard through a gap in the fence rating the men
as old Johnny used to do, at the same time of day, and for the same
neglect, and almost in the self-same words which the old owner used, but
stronger. Instead of being happy, Master Popplewell lost more flesh in a
month than he used to lay on in the most prosperous year; and he owed
it to his wife, no doubt, as generally happens, that he was not speedily
gathered to the bosom of the hospitable Simon of Joppa. For Mrs.
Popplewell said, "Go away; Johnny, go away from this village; smell
new smells, and never see a hide without a walking thing inside of it.
Sea-weed smells almost as nice as tan; though of course it is not so
wholesome." The tanner obeyed, and bought a snug little place about ten
miles from the old premises, which he called, at the suggestion of the
parson, "Byrsa Cottage."

Here was Mary, as blithe as a lark, and as petted as a robin-redbreast,
by no means pining, or even hankering, for any other robin. She was not
the girl to give her heart before it was even asked for; and hitherto
she had regarded the smuggler with pity more than admiration. For in
many points she was like her father, whom she loved foremost of the
world; and Master Anerley was a law-abiding man, like every other
true Englishman. Her uncle Popplewell was also such, but exerted his
principles less strictly. Moreover, he was greatly under influence of
wife, which happens more freely to a man without children, the which are
a source of contradiction. And Mistress Popplewell was a most thorough
and conscientious free-trader.

Now Mary was from childhood so accustomed to the sea, and the relish
of salt breezes, and the racy dance of little waves that crowd on one
another, and the tidal delivery of delightful rubbish, that to fail
of seeing the many works and plays and constant variance of her never
wearying or weary friend was more than she could long put up with. She
called upon Lord Kepp