und
for the faintest hope, and that I know to a certainty that he makes
an offer to her twice a week,--that is, on every market day. You
can't enjoy half the joke if you won't bear that in mind." Alice
promised that she would bear it all in mind, and then Kate went on
with her reading. Poor Bellfield was working very hard at his drill,
Mrs Greenow went on to say; so hard that sometimes she really thought
the fatigue would be too much for his strength. He would come in
sometimes of an evening and just take a cup of tea;--generally on
Mondays and Thursdays. "These are not market days at Norwich," said
Kate; "and thus unpleasant meetings are avoided." "He comes in," said
Mrs Greenow, "and takes a little tea; and sometimes I think that he
will faint at my feet." "That he kneels there on every occasion,"
said Kate, "and repeats his offer also twice a week, I have not the
least doubt in the world."

"And will she accept him at last?"

"Really I don't know what to think of it. Sometimes I fancy that she
likes the fun of the thing, but that she is too wide-awake to put
herself in any man's power. I have no doubt she lends him money,
because he wants it sadly and she is very generous. She gives him
money, I feel sure, but takes his receipt on stamped paper for every
shilling. That's her character all over."

The letter then went on to say that the writer had made up her mind
to remain at Norwich certainly through the winter and spring, and
that she was anxiously desirous that her dear Kate should go back to
her. "Come and have one other look at Oileymead," said the letter,
"and then, if you make up your mind that you don't like it or him, I
won't ask you to think of them ever again. I believe him to be a very
honest fellow." "Did you ever know such a woman?" said Kate; "with
all her faults I believe she would go through fire and water to serve
me. I think she'd lend me money without any stamped paper." Then Aunt
Greenow's letter was put up, and the two girls had come out upon the
open fell.

It was a delicious afternoon for a winter's walk. The air was clear
and cold, but not actually frosty. The ground beneath their feet
was dry, and the sky, though not bright, had that appearance of
enduring weather which gives no foreboding of rain. There is a
special winter's light, which is very clear though devoid of all
brilliancy,--through which every object strikes upon the eye with
well-marked lines, and under which almost all fo