, I don't think there's
very much harm in him."

"I am not saying anything against him; only in that case you can't
very well turn him out of the house."

"Could not I, though? I could in a minute; and, if you wish it, you
shall see if I can't do it."

"The rocks and valleys would not allow that, aunt."

"It's all very well for you to laugh, my dear. If laughing would
break my bones I shouldn't be as whole as I am now. I might have had
Cheesacre if I liked, who is a substantial man, and could have kept
a carriage for me; but it was the rocks and valleys that prevented
that;--and perhaps a little feeling that I might do some good to
a poor fellow who has nobody in the world to look after him." Mrs
Greenow, as she said this, put her handkerchief up to her eyes, and
wiped away the springing moisture. Tears were always easy with her,
but on this occasion Kate almost respected her tears. "I'm sure I
hope you'll be happy, aunt."

"If he makes me unhappy he shall pay for it;" and Mrs Greenow, having
done with the tears, shook her head, as though upon this occasion she
quite meant all that she said.

At dinner they were not very comfortable. Either the gloomy air of
the place and the neighbourhood of the black pines had depressed the
Captain, or else the glorious richness of the prospects before him
had made him thoughtful. He had laid aside the jacket with the brass
buttons, and had dressed himself for dinner very soberly. And he
behaved himself at dinner and after dinner with a wonderful sobriety,
being very unlike the Captain who had sat at the head of the table
at Mrs Greenow's picnic. When left to himself after dinner he barely
swallowed two glasses of the old Squire's port wine before he
sauntered out into the garden to join the ladies, whom he had seen
there; and when pressed by Kate to light a cigar he positively
declined.

On the following morning Mrs Greenow had recovered her composure,
but Captain Bellfield was still in a rather disturbed state of mind.
He knew that his efforts were to be crowned with success, and that
he was sure of his wife, but he did not know how the preliminary
difficulties were to be overcome, and he did not know what to do
with himself at the Hall. After breakfast he fidgeted about in the
parlour, being unable to contrive for himself a mode of escape, and
was absolutely thrown upon his beam-ends when the widow asked him
what he meant to do with himself between that and dinner.

"I