he cottage to the
widow--just enough for her to manage--and she can keep a dairy. If she
want capital, I'll lend her some in your name--only don't tell Stirn;
and as for the rent--we'll talk of that when we see how she gets on,
thankless obstinate jade that she is! You see," added the Squire, as if
he felt there was some apology due for this generosity to an object whom
he professed to consider so ungrateful, "her husband was a faithful
servant, and so--I wish you would not stand there staring me out of
countenance, but go down to the woman at once, or Stirn will have let
the land to Rickeybockey, as sure as a gun. And hark ye, Dale, perhaps
you can contrive, if the woman is so cursedly stiff-backed, not to say
the land is mine, or that it is any favor I want to do her--or, in
short, manage it as you can for the best." Still even this charitable
message failed. The widow knew that the land was the Squire's, and worth
a good L3 an acre. "She thanked him humbly for that and all favors; but
she could not afford to buy cows, and she did not wish to be beholden
to any one for her living. And Lenny was well off at Mr.
Rickeybockey's, and coming on wonderfully in the garden way--and she did
not doubt she could get some washing; at all events, her haystack would
bring in a good bit of money, and she should do nicely, thank their
honors."

Nothing farther could be done in the direct way, but the remark about
the washing suggested some mode of indirectly benefiting the widow. And
a little time afterwards, the sole laundress in that immediate
neighborhood happening to die, a hint from the Squire obtained from the
landlady of the inn opposite the Casino such custom as she had to
bestow, which at times was not inconsiderable. And what with Lenny's
wages, (whatever that mysterious item might be,) the mother and son
contrived to live without exhibiting any of those physical signs of fast
and abstinence which Riccabocca and his valet gratuitously afforded to
the student in animal anatomy.

CHAPTER XIV.

Of all the wares and commodities in exchange and barter, wherein so
mainly consists the civilization of our modern world, there is not one
which is so carefully weighed--so accurately measured--so plumbed and
gauged--so doled and scraped--so poured out in _minima_ and balanced
with scruples--as that necessary of social commerce called "an apology!"
If the chemists were half so careful in vending their poisons, there
would be a not