Mr. Mowbray meantime had stopped Susan Foster to speak to her, and she was blushing and court'sying under the compliments he was paying her on her bright skin and her black eyes, and George was shifting from leg to leg under the compliments he was paying him upon his good taste and his good fortune. Mr. Mowbray had an eye for beauty, and certainly felt the glow of charity more strongly in his bosom towards the young and the good-looking of his parishioners, than towards the old and the ill-favoured: at least he was apt to think Mrs. Mowbray understood the wants and the sorrows of the latter better than he did. "And who is that buxom lass?" said he to his wife, who was looking on upon the scene; "she is a light-hearted one. How indefatigable she is!" "That is old Dixon's daughter, Jane, to whom you always used to give a shilling for opening the gate, because her eyes were so blue." "So she is! Faith, she has turned out a fine creature! But, bless me, who is this pretty woman? Quite an _élégante_, I declare! Where can she come from?" "Why, from our own farm of Holmy-bank, to be sure. Do you not see Farmer Otley close behind her? and do you not know he has been married this year, though they are only lately come to the farm?" "Why you know, my dear, I have a taste for the beautiful, and not for the sublime; and I quite overlook everything else when there is such a pretty woman as this to be seen." "I am sure, if you are thinking of beauty, Mr. Otley is almost the handsomest man I ever saw in my life; and if she looks like a lady with her smart dress, he looks ten times more really distinguished, with those fine features, and his head like an antique gem, though he is dressed as befits his station in life." "Well, my dear, you may admire Mr. Otley if you like it: it is only fair to allow me to admire his wife. I have just recollected, I have a great deal to say to Farmer Otley," continued Mr. Mowbray, laughing; and he was soon in deep conversation with his tenant about his course of cropping and his stock: while Mrs. Mowbray secretly reflected, "Mr. Mowbray is growing too old to talk so much about beauty. I feel quite uncomfortable when he goes on so before the children." "Well, mamma!" interposed Fanny; "don't you think Susan Foster is much prettier than Mrs. Otley? Her eyes are much larger, in the first place; and then she is so quiet, and does not look up and down so; and then, as for her nose----" "My dear, Susan Foster is a very respectable, worthy young woman, and very good-looking; and now do not let us hear any more about beauty. I am really sick of the subject."