"That's true," said the pater. "At present he has thoughts of taking a farm." "But he has no money to stock a farm. And look at that tale, sir, that was talked of--about that Jenny Lake. Other things have been said also." "Oh, one must not believe all one hears. For myself, I assure you, Mrs. Tinkle, I know no harm of Nash. As to the money to stock a farm, I expect his brother could help him to it, if he chose." "But, sir, you would surely not advise them to marry upon an uncertainty!" "I don't advise them to marry at all; understand that, my good lady; I think it would be the height of imprudence. But I can't prevent it." "Mr. Todhetley," she answered, a tear rolling down her thin cheeks, on which there was a chronic redness, "I am unable to describe to you how much my mind is set against the match: I seem to foresee, by some subtle instinct, that no good would ever come of it; nothing but misery for Charlotte. And she has had so peaceful a home all her life." "Tell Charlotte she can't have him--if you think so strongly about it." "She won't listen--at least to any purpose," groaned Mrs. Tinkle. "When I talk to her she says, 'Yes, dear mother; no, dear mother,' in her dutiful way: and the same evening she'll be listening to Nash Caromel's courting words. Her uncle, Ralph Tinkle, rode over from Inkberrow to talk to her, for I wrote to him: but it seems to have made no permanent impression on her. What I am afraid of is that Nash Caromel will marry her in spite of us." "I should like to see my children marry in spite of me!" cried the Squire, giving way to one of his hot fits. "I'd 'marry' them! Nash can't take her against her will, my dear friend: it takes two people, you know, to complete a bargain of that sort. Promise Charlotte to shake her unless she listens to reason. Why should she not listen! She is meek and tractable." "She always has been. But, once let a girl be enthralled by a sweetheart, there's no answering for her. Duty to parents is often forgotten then." "If---- Why, mercy upon us, there _is_ Charlotte!" broke off the Squire, happening to lift his eyes to the stile. "And Nash too." Yes, there they were: standing on the other side the stile in the cross-way path. "Halloa!" called out Mr. Todhetley. "I can't stay a moment," answered Nash Caromel, turning his good-looking face to speak: and it cannot be denied it was a good-looking face, or that he was an attractive man. "Miles has sent me to that cattle sale up yonder, and I am full late." With a smile and a nod, he stepped lightly onwards, his slender supple figure, of middle height, upright as a dart; his fair hair waving in the breeze. Charlotte Tinkle glanced shyly after him, her cheeks blushing like a peony. "What's this I hear, young lady?--that you and Mr. Nash yonder want to make a match of it, in spite of pastors and masters?" began the Squire. "Is it true?"