I want it badly this winter, for I
have had more land under the plough than usual this year. I must
either get some pasture or sell off some of my stock."

"George Lechmere came, father," Martha said, with an angry toss of
her head, "but when he saw me talking to Captain Mallett he turned
and went off; just as if I was not to open my lips to any man but
himself."

The farmer would have spoken, but his wife shook her head at him.
George Lechmere had been at one time engaged to Martha, but his
jealousy had caused so many quarrels that the engagement had been
broken off. He still came often to the house, however, and her
parents hoped that it would be renewed; for the young fellow's
character stood high. He was his father's right hand, and would
naturally succeed him to the farm. His parents, too, had heartily
approved of the match. So far, however, the prospect of the young
people coming together was not encouraging. Martha was somewhat
given to flirtation. George was as jealous as ever, and was unable
to conceal his feelings, which, as he had now no right to criticise
her conduct, so angered the girl that she not unfrequently gave
encouragement to others solely to show her indifference to his
opinions.

George Lechmere had indeed gone away with anger in his heart. He
knew that Captain Mallett was on the point of leaving with his
regiment for India, and yet to see him chatting familiarly with
Martha excited in him a passionate feeling of grievance against
her.

"It matters nought who it is," he muttered to himself. "She is ever
ready to carry on with anyone, while she can hardly give me a civil
word when I call. I know that if we were to marry it would be just
the same thing, and that I am a fool to stop here and let it vex
me. It would be better for me to get right out of it. John is old
enough to take my place on the farm. Some of these days I will take
the Queen's shilling. If I were once away I should not be always
thinking of her. I know I am a fool to let a girl trouble me so,
but I can't help it. If I stay here I know that I shall do mischief
either to her or to someone else. I felt like doing it last month
when she was over at that business at Squire Carthew's--he is just
such another one as Captain Mallett, only he is a bad landlord,
while ours is a good one. What made him think of asking all his own
tenantry, and a good many of us round, and getting up a cricket
match and a dance on the grass is more than