But he set to work, humbly and patiently, to pacify her; he represented
that, in a small house like the vicarage, every thing is known; he
should have ruined her character if he had not held aloof. "But it is
different now," said he. "You can run out of Huntercombe House, and
meet me here, and nobody be the wiser."
"Not I," said Mary Wells, with a toss. "The worse thing a girl can do
is to keep company with a gentleman. She must meet him in holes and
corners, and be flung off, like an old glove, when she has served his
turn."
"That will never happen to you, Polly dear. We must be prudent for the
present; but I shall be more my own master some day, and then you will
see how I love you."
"Seeing is believing," said the girl, sullenly. "You be too fond of
yourself to love the likes o' me."
Such was the warning her natural shrewdness gave her. But perseverance
undermined it. Bassett so often threw out hints of what he would do
some day, mixed with warm protestations of love, that she began almost
to hope he would marry her. She really liked him; his fine figure and
his color pleased her eye, and he had a plausible tongue to boot.
As for him, her rustic beauty and health pleased his senses; but, for
his heart, she had little place in that. What he courted her for just
now was to keep him informed of all that passed in Huntercombe Hall.
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