id at the same acquaintance's as before, the
young farmer popped his head over a stone wall, and said, "Good evening
to you, young women." He was soon over the wall, and walked on with them
to the end of the town. On the Sunday at the chapel Jane saw Nancy's
grave face fixed on some object steadily, and, looking in the same
direction, was startled to see James Cheshire. Again her heart beat
pit-a-pat, and she thought, "Can he really be thinking of me?"

The moment chapel was over, James Cheshire was gone, stopping to speak
to no one. Nancy again pressed the arm of Jane to her side, as they
walked home, and said, "I was not wrong." Jane only replied by returning
her affectionate pressure.

Some days after, as Nancy Dunster was coming out of a shop in the
evening, after their return home from the mill, James Cheshire suddenly
put his hand on her shoulder, and, on her turning, shook her hand
cordially, and said, "Come along with me a bit. I must have a little
talk with you."

Nancy consented without remark or hesitation. James Cheshire walked on
quickly till they came near the fine old church which strikes travelers
as so superior to the place in which it is located, when he slackened
his pace, and taking Nancy's hand, began in a most friendly manner to
tell her how much he liked her and her sister. That, to make a short
matter of it, as was his way, he had made up his mind that the woman of
all others in the world that would suit him for a wife was her sister.
"But before I said so to her, I thought I would say so to you, Nancy,
for you are so sensible, I'm sure you will say what is best for us all."

Nancy manifested no surprise, but said calmly, "You are a well-to-do
farmer, Mr. Cheshire. You have friends of property; my sister, and--"

"Ay, and a mill-girl; I know all that. I've thought it all over, and so
far you are right again, my little one. But just hear what I've got to
say. I'm no fool, though I say it. I've an eye in my head and a head on
my shoulders, eh?"

Nancy smiled

"Well now, it s not _any_ mill-girl--mind you, it's not _any_
mill-girl; no, nor perhaps another in the kingdom, that would do for me.
I don't think mill-girls are in the main cut out for farmers' wives, any
more than farmers' wives are fit for mill-girls; but, you see, I've got
a notion that your sister is not only a very farrantly lass, but that
she's one that has particular good sense, though not so deep as you,
Nancy, neither. Well