places and an
unfortunate lack of the wherewithal to keep them up--proposed to the
Honourable Jane Champion in a business-like way, and the Honourable
Jane looked them up and down, and through and through, until they felt
very cheap, and then quietly refused them, in an equally business-like
way.

Two or three nice boys, whom she had pulled out of scrapes and set on
their feet again after hopeless croppers, had thought, in a wave of
maudlin gratitude, how good it would be for a fellow always to have her
at hand to keep him straight and tell him what he ought to do, don't
you know? and--er--well, yes--pay his debts, and be a sort of
mother-who-doesn't scold kind of person to him; and had caught hold of
her kind hand, and implored her to marry them. Jane had slapped them if
they ventured to touch her, and recommended them not to be silly.

One solemn proposal she had had quite lately from the bachelor rector
of a parish adjoining Overdene. He had often inflicted wearisome
conversations upon her; and when he called, intending to put the
momentous question, Jane, who was sitting at her writing-table in the
Overdene drawing-room, did not see any occasion to move from it. If the
rector became too prosy, she could surreptitiously finish a few notes.
He sank into a deep arm-chair close to the writing-table, crossed his
somewhat bandy legs one over the other, made the tips of his fingers
meet with unctuous accuracy, and intoned the opening sentences of his
proposition. Jane, sharpening pencils and sorting nibs, apparently only
caught the drift of what he was saying, for when he had chanted the
phrase, "Not alone from selfish motives, my dear Miss Champion; but for
the good of my parish; for the welfare of my flock, for the advancement
of the work of the church in our midst," Jane opened a despatch-box and
drew out her cheque-book.

"I shall be delighted to subscribe, Mr. Bilberry," she said. "Is it for
a font, a pulpit, new hymn-books, or what?"

"My dear lady," said the rector tremulously, "you misunderstand me. My
desire is to lead you to the altar."

"Dear Mr. Bilberry," said Jane Champion, "that would be quite
unnecessary. From any part of your church the fact that you need a new
altar-cloth is absolutely patent to all comers. I will, with the
greatest pleasure, give you a cheque for ten pounds towards it. I have
attended your church rather often lately because I enjoy a long, quiet
walk by myself through the woods. A