ped the
youngest guests on the back and shown a peculiar fondness for their
presence, in the full belief that they must feel their lives made happy
by their belonging to a parish where there was such a hearty man as
Squire Cass to invite them and wish them well. Even in this early
stage of the jovial mood, it was natural that he should wish to supply
his son's deficiencies by looking and speaking for him.

"Aye, aye," he began, offering his snuff-box to Mr. Lammeter, who for
the second time bowed his head and waved his hand in stiff rejection of
the offer, "us old fellows may wish ourselves young to-night, when we
see the mistletoe-bough in the White Parlour. It's true, most things
are gone back'ard in these last thirty years--the country's going down
since the old king fell ill. But when I look at Miss Nancy here, I
begin to think the lasses keep up their quality;--ding me if I remember
a sample to match her, not when I was a fine young fellow, and thought
a deal about my pigtail. No offence to you, madam," he added, bending
to Mrs. Crackenthorp, who sat by him, "I didn't know _you_ when you
were as young as Miss Nancy here."

Mrs. Crackenthorp--a small blinking woman, who fidgeted incessantly
with her lace, ribbons, and gold chain, turning her head about and
making subdued noises, very much like a guinea-pig that twitches its
nose and soliloquizes in all company indiscriminately--now blinked and
fidgeted towards the Squire, and said, "Oh, no--no offence."

This emphatic compliment of the Squire's to Nancy was felt by others
besides Godfrey to have a diplomatic significance; and her father gave
a slight additional erectness to his back, as he looked across the
table at her with complacent gravity. That grave and orderly senior
was not going to bate a jot of his dignity by seeming elated at the
notion of a match between his family and the Squire's: he was gratified
by any honour paid to his daughter; but he must see an alteration in
several ways before his consent would be vouchsafed. His spare but
healthy person, and high-featured firm face, that looked as if it had
never been flushed by excess, was in strong contrast, not only with the
Squire's, but with the appearance of the Raveloe farmers generally--in
accordance with a favourite saying of his own, that "breed was stronger
than pasture".

"Miss Nancy's wonderful like what her mother was, though; isn't she,
Kimble?" said the stout lady of that name, looking