“With his own mouth.” Miss Lavender repeated. “And as to his reasons for lettin' on, I don't know 'em. Maybe you can guess 'em, as you seem to ha' had everything cut and dried betwixt and between you; but that's neither here nor there--Alf. Barton bein' out o' the way, why, the coast's clear, and so Gilbert's case is to be considered by itself; and let's come to the p'int, namely, what you've got ag'in him?” “I wonder thee can ask, Betsy! He's poor, he's base-born, without position or influence in the neighborhood,--in no way a husband for Martha Deane! If her head's turned because he has been robbed, and marvellously saved, and talked about, I suppose I must wait till she comes to her right senses.” “I rather expect,” Miss Lavender gravely remarked, “that they were bespoke before all that happened, and it's not a case o' suddent fancy, but somethin' bred in the bone and not to be cured by plasters. We won't talk o' that now, but come back to Gilbert Potter, and I dunno as you're quite right in any way about his bein's and doin's. With that farm o' his'n, he can't be called poor, and I shouldn't wonder, though I can't give no proofs, but never mind, wait awhile and you'll see, that he's not base-born, after all; and as for respect in the neighborhood, there's not a man more respected nor looked up to,--so the last p'int's settled, and we'll take the t' other two; and I s'pose you mean his farm isn't enough?” “Thee's right,” Dr. Deane said. “As Martha's guardian, I am bound to watch over her interests, and every prudent man will agree with me that her husband ought at least to be as well off as herself.” “Well, all I've got to say, is, it's lucky for you that Naomi Blake didn't think as you do, when she married you. What's sass for the goose ought to be sass for the gander (meanin' you and Gilbert), and every prudent man will agree with me.” This was a home-thrust, which Dr. Deane was not able to parry. Miss Lavender had full knowledge whereof she affirmed, and the Doctor knew it. “I admit that there might be other advantages,” he said, rather pompously, covering his annoyance with a pinch of snuff,--“advantages which partly balance the want of property. Perhaps Naomi Blake thought so too. But here, I think, it would be hard for thee to find such. Or does thee mean that the man's disgraceful birth is a recommendation?” “Recommendation? No!” Miss Lavender curtly replied. “We need go no further, then. Admitting thee's right in all other respects, here is cause enough for me. I put it to thee, as a sensible woman, whether I would not cover both myself and Martha with shame, by allowing her marriage with Gilbert Potter?” Miss Lavender sat silently in her chair and appeared to meditate. “Thee doesn't answer,” the Doctor remarked, after a pause.