a contemptuous emphasis, "thee
dostna know the pints of a woman. The men 'ud niver run after Dinah as
they would after Hetty."

"What care I what the men 'ud run after? It's well seen what choice the
most of 'em know how to make, by the poor draggle-tails o' wives you
see, like bits o' gauze ribbin, good for nothing when the colour's
gone."

"Well, well, thee canstna say but what I knowed how to make a choice
when I married thee," said Mr. Poyser, who usually settled little
conjugal disputes by a compliment of this sort; "and thee wast twice as
buxom as Dinah ten year ago."

"I niver said as a woman had need to be ugly to make a good missis of a
house. There's Chowne's wife ugly enough to turn the milk an' save the
rennet, but she'll niver save nothing any other way. But as for Dinah,
poor child, she's niver likely to be buxom as long as she'll make her
dinner o' cake and water, for the sake o' giving to them as want. She
provoked me past bearing sometimes; and, as I told her, she went clean
again' the Scriptur', for that says, 'Love your neighbour as yourself';
'but,' I said, 'if you loved your neighbour no better nor you do
yourself, Dinah, it's little enough you'd do for him. You'd be thinking
he might do well enough on a half-empty stomach.' Eh, I wonder where she
is this blessed Sunday! Sitting by that sick woman, I daresay, as she'd
set her heart on going to all of a sudden."

"Ah, it was a pity she should take such megrims into her head, when
she might ha' stayed wi' us all summer, and eaten twice as much as she
wanted, and it 'ud niver ha' been missed. She made no odds in th' house
at all, for she sat as still at her sewing as a bird on the nest, and
was uncommon nimble at running to fetch anything. If Hetty gets married,
theed'st like to ha' Dinah wi' thee constant."

"It's no use thinking o' that," said Mrs. Poyser. "You might as
well beckon to the flying swallow as ask Dinah to come an' live here
comfortable, like other folks. If anything could turn her, I should ha'
turned her, for I've talked to her for a hour on end, and scolded her
too; for she's my own sister's child, and it behoves me to do what I can
for her. But eh, poor thing, as soon as she'd said us 'good-bye' an'
got into the cart, an' looked back at me with her pale face, as is welly
like her Aunt Judith come back from heaven, I begun to be frightened to
think o' the set-downs I'd given her; for it comes over you sometimes
as if she'd a way