ovoking. It is indeed."

"But what harm can Captain Bellfield do me?"

"What good can he do you? That's the question. You see, my dear,
years will go by. I don't mean to say you ain't quite as young
as ever you were, and nothing can be nicer and fresher than you
are;--especially since you took to bathing."

"Oh, aunt, don't!"

"My dear, the truth must be spoken. I declare I don't think I ever
saw a young woman so improvident as you are. When are you to begin to
think about getting married if you don't do it now?"

"I shall never begin to think about it, till I buy my wedding
clothes."

"That's nonsense,--sheer nonsense. How are you to get wedding clothes
if you have never thought about getting a husband? Didn't I see Mr
Cheesacre ask you for a dance last night?"

"Yes, he did; while you were talking to Captain Bellfield yourself,
aunt."

"Captain Bellfield can't hurt me, my dear. And why didn't you dance
with Mr Cheesacre?"

"He's a fat Norfolk farmer, with not an idea beyond the virtues of
stall-feeding."

"My dear, every acre of it is his own land,--every acre! And he
bought another farm for thirteen thousand pounds only last autumn.
They're better than the squires,--some of those gentlemen farmers;
they are indeed. And of all men in the world they're the easiest
managed."

"That's a recommendation, no doubt."

"Of course it is;--a great recommendation."

Mrs Greenow had no idea of joking when her mind was intent on serious
things. "He's to take us to the picnic to-morrow, and I do hope
you'll manage to let him sit beside you. It'll be the place of
honour, because he gives all the wine. He's picked up with that
man Bellfield, and he's to be there; but if you allow your name to
be once mixed up with his, it will be all over with you as far as
Yarmouth is concerned."

"I don't at all want to be mixed up with Captain Bellfield, as you
call it," said Kate. Then she subsided into her novel, while Mrs
Greenow busied herself about the good things for the picnic. In
truth, the aunt did not understand the niece. Whatsoever might be the
faults of Kate Vavasor, an unmaidenly desire of catching a husband
for herself was certainly not one of them.

CHAPTER VIII

Mr Cheesacre

Yarmouth is not a happy place for a picnic. A picnic should be held
among green things. Green turf is absolutely an essential. There
should be trees, broken ground, small paths, thickets, and hidden
recesses. There should, if