ght with
newness, and she would waft them aside from her shoulder with an air
which turned even them into auxiliaries. Her kerchief was fastened
close round her neck and close over her bosom; but Jeannette well
knew what she was doing as she fastened it,--and so did Jeannette's
mistress.

Mrs Greenow would still talk much about her husband, declaring that
her loss was as fresh to her wounded heart, as though he, on whom
all her happiness had rested, had left her only yesterday; but
yet she mistook her dates, frequently referring to the melancholy
circumstance, as having taken place fifteen months ago. In truth,
however, Mr Greenow had been alive within the last nine months,--as
everybody around her knew. But if she chose to forget the exact day,
why should her friends or dependents remind her of it? No friend or
dependent did remind her of it, and Charlie Fairstairs spoke of the
fifteen months with bold confidence,--false-tongued little parasite
that she was.

"Looking well," said the widow, in answer to some outspoken
compliment from Mr Cheesacre. "Yes, I'm well enough in health, and I
suppose I ought to be thankful that it is so. But if you had buried
a wife whom you had loved within the last eighteen months, you would
have become as indifferent as I am to all that kind of thing."

"I never was married yet," said Mr Cheesacre.

"And therefore you know nothing about it. Everything in the world is
gay and fresh to you. If I were you, Mr Cheesacre, I would not run
the risk. It is hardly worth a woman's while, and I suppose not a
man's. The sufferings are too great!" Whereupon she pressed her
handkerchief to her eyes.

"But I mean to try all the same," said Cheesacre, looking the lover
all over as he gazed into the fair one's face.

"I hope that you may be successful, Mr Cheesacre, and that she may
not be torn away from you early in life. Is dinner ready, Jeannette?
That's well. Mr Cheesacre, will you give your arm to Miss
Fairstairs?"

There was no doubt as to Mrs Greenow's correctness. As Captain
Bellfield held, or had held, her Majesty's commission, he was clearly
entitled to take the mistress of the festival down to dinner. But
Cheesacre would not look at it in this light. He would only remember
that he had paid for the Captain's food for some time past, that the
Captain had been brought into Norwich in his gig, that the Captain
owed him money, and ought, so to say, to be regarded as his property
on the occ