Bulldog and Butterfly | Page 4

he answered, with the same dogged patience as before.
'You can't win a maid's heart by going at her as solemn as a funeral,' pursued the old woman. 'If you'd ha' begun sprightly with the gell, you might ha' had a chance with her. "La!" says you, "what a pretty frock you're a-wearing to-day;" or "How nice you do do up your hair for a certainty."'
'I don't look on marriage as a thing to be approached i' that fashion,' said Thistlewood.
'Well,' returned the old woman, clicking her needles with added rapidity, 'I've always said there's no end to the folly o' men. D'ye hear that there cuckoo? Go and catch him wi' shoutin' at him. An' when next you're in want of toast at tay-time, soak your bread in a pan o' cold water.'
Thistlewood stood for a time in a rather dogged-looking silence, sometimes glancing at the notable woman and glancing away again. Her eye expressed a triumph which, though purely dialectic, was hard for a disappointed lover to endure, even whilst he refused to recognise his disappointment.
'I should regard any such means of gettin' into a maid's good graces as being despisable,' he said, after a while.
'Very well, my Christian friend,' the farmer's wife retorted, with a laugh. 'Them as mek bread without barm must look to spoil the batch.'
'I was niver of a flatterin' turn of mind,' said Thistlewood.
'You niver was, John,' responded Mrs. Fellowes, with an accent which implied something beyond assent.
He flushed a little, and began to tap at his corduroyed leg with the stick he carried, at first with a look of shamefaced discomfiture, and then with resolution. He finished with a resounding slap, and looked up with a light in his eyes.
'I'm pretty hard to beat, ma'am,' he said, 'though I say it as should not. I'm not going to be conquered here if I can help it. And I look to have you and Mr. Fellowes on my side, as far as may be asked in reason. Her'll find no better husband than I should be to her, I am sure. There's more than a wheedlin' tongue required to mek a married woman happy. I've pretty well proved as I'm not changeable. There's a strong arm to tek care of her. There's a homely house with plenty in it. There's a goodish lump at the bank, and there's nothing heart can desire as her might not have by asking for it.'
'Well, John,' said the farmer's wife, clicking her needles cheerfully, 'I've not a word to say again the match. Win the wench and welcome. My dancin' days is pretty nigh over, but I'll tek the floor once more with pleasure, if you won't be too long in mekin' ready for me.'
'There's nothing more to be done at present, I suppose,' the lover said presently, 'and so I'll say good-bye for this afternoon, Mrs. Fellowes.'
With this he turned upon his heel, and marching sturdily down the path and across the little bridge, disappeared behind the withies and pollards.
The farmer's wife waited a while until he was out of hearing, and then, without turning her head, shrilled out 'Bertha!' The girl came silently downstairs and joined her in the doorway. The mother pursued her knitting in silence, a faint flicker of a humorous smile touching her face and eyes now and again. At length she spoke, looking straight before her.
'Why woot'ent marry the man?'
'Mr. Thistlewood?' asked Bertha, making the feeblest possible defence against this direct attack.
'Ay,' said her mother, 'Mr. Thistlewood to be sure. Why woot'ent marry him?'
'I like him well enough in a way,' the girl answered 'But I don't like him that way!
'What way?'
'Why--in a marrying way,' said Bertha.
'Pooh!' answered the notable woman. 'What's a maid know how she'd like a man?'
'I should have the greatest respect for him,' Bertha answered, wisely avoiding the discussion of this question, 'if he wouldn't come bothering me to marry him.'
'Ay! 'said her mother, assenting with a philosophic air. 'That's a wench's way. When a man wants nothing her'll give him as much as her can spare. But look hither, my gell! You listen to the words of a old experienced woman. There's a better love comes after the weddin', if a gell marries a worthy solid man, than ever her knows before it. If a gell averts from a man that's another matter. But if her can abide him to begin with, and if he's a good man, her'll be fond of him before her knows it.'
'I should never be fond of Mr. Thistlewood, mother,' the girl answered, flushing hotly. 'It's of no use to speak about him.'
'Did the man ever mek love to you at all,' the mother asked, 'beyond comin' here and barkin', "Wool't marry me?"'
'I wish you wouldn't talk of him, mother,' Bertha answered