olding Neefit by the arm. He
did it very well, but he did not as yet know the depth of Neefit's
obstinacy.

"What's it all about?" asked Neefit in disgust.

"Well; yes. Have you talked to Polly herself about this, old fellow?"

"No, I ain't; and I don't mean."

"Twice I went to her, and twice she refused me. Come, Neefit, be
reasonable. A man can't be running after a girl all his life, when
she won't have anything to say to him. I did all that a man could
do; and upon my honour I was very fond of her. But, God bless my
soul,--there must be an end to everything."

"There ain't to be no end to this, Mr. Newton."

"I'm to marry the girl whether she will or not?"

"Nohow," said Mr. Neefit, oracularly. "But when a young gentleman
asks a young lady as whether she'll have him, she's not a-going to
jump down his throat. You knows that, Mr. Newton. And as for money,
did I ask for any settlement? I'd a' been ashamed to mention money.
When are you a-coming to see our Polly, that's the question?"

"I shall come no more, Mr. Neefit."

"You won't?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Neefit. I've been twice rejected."

"And that's the kind of man you are; is it? You're one of them sort,
are you?" Then he looked out of his saucer eyes upon the young Squire
with a fishy ferocity, which was very unpleasant. It was quite
evident that he meant war. "If that's your game, Mr. Newton, I'll be
even with you."

"Mr. Neefit, I'll pay you anything that you say I owe you."

"Damn your money!" said the breeches-maker, walking out of the room.
When he got down into the bar he told them all there that young
Newton was engaged to his daughter, and that, by G----, he should
marry her.

"Stick to that, Neefit," said Lieutenant Cox.

"I mean to stick to it," said Mr. Neefit. He then ordered another
glass of gin and water, and was driven back to the station.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

"HE MUST MARRY HER."

On the day following that on which Mr. Neefit made his journey to the
Moonbeam, Sir Thomas Underwood was at his chambers in London. It was
now eight weeks since his bone had been broken, and though he still
carried his arm in a sling, he declared of himself that he was able
to go about as usual;--which assertion was taken at the villa as
meaning that he was now able to live in Southampton Buildings without
further assistance from women. When Patience reminded him, with
tears in her eyes, that he could not as yet put on his own coat,
he reminde