It was in my mind to tell him none the better for his asking, but remembered in time that civility costs nought, and so made him as civil an answer as I could fashion. "And how's Mary, sweet sonsy Mary?" he went on, taking no note of what I was saying about my father's touch of asthma, which was plaguey bad at the back end of the year. It was just sickening to have him mouthing her name as if he were turning a piece of good stuff on his tongue, so I answered him short enough. "Yo cannot tell, Ben, how my heart warms to Mary and to you, Ben, for Mary's sake, and to all that's kin to her, even to the third and fourth generation," he added, after a pause, to make it more solemn and convincing like. "Aw'm sure we're much obliged to you," I said; "but yo'n a queer way o' showing your liking." "Yo mean leaving her when Long Tom was so unmannerly. It isn't like thee, Ben, to bear malice nor to cast up things in a friend's face. Let byegones be byegones. Aw know aw'm not a warrior, Ben. Aw'st never set up to be a man o' wrath. We'n all our failings, Ben, an' feightin's noan my vocation, that's flat." "Well, say no more about it," I said. "Let's talk o' summot else. It's lucky for Mary she's got somebody to stick up for her that'll noan turn tail an' leave her to do her own feightin'." "Meaning thissen, Ben; aw heard about th' setting down tha gave Long Tom." "Nay, aw weren't thinking o' missen," I said, "tho' yo' may count me in. But it's no business o' thine. Talk o' summot else, aw say." "But it is a concern o' mine, Ben. It touches me quick does ought 'at touches Mary. How would ta' like me for a cousin-i'-law?" "A what?" I said. "A cousin-i'-law. Aw reckon that's what aw should be if aw wed Mary." "Thee wed Mary!" I cried, half vexed but tickled withal "Thee! Why, Ben, lad, if aw know ought of a woman she wouldn't look th' side o' th' road tha'rt on. Besides she's noan for thee, Ben." "Happen she's bespoke nearer home?" he said. "Aye, nearer thi own home," I said, for George and Walker lived not so far off each other. "What, George Mellor?" he cried. "Aye, George Mellor," I said, and strode on faster and would have said no more. And if I said more than my knowledge warranted me, I spoke no more than I deemed to be true. "Nay, Ben, dunnot be angered wi' me. It's no shame to anyone to lose his heart to such a lass as Mary. Aw know tha's set agen me, Ben. Aw know aw'm noan fit for her; an' if it comes to that where will ta find th' man that is?" I never liked Ben Walker half so much in my life, or I'd better say I never disliked him half so little as just at that moment, for false as he was and mean, one glimmer of truth and nobleness he had about him, and that was his love for Mary. And yet it galled me to have him speak of Mary at all. But he would not have done.