ould not have worn that
jacket, and he walked on, hating himself.

It will be remembered that Mrs Greenow had spoken with considerable
severity of Captain Bellfield's pretensions when discussing his
character with her niece; but, nevertheless, on the present occasion
she received him with most gracious smiles. It may be that her
estimate of his character had been altered, or that she was making
sacrifice of her own feelings in consideration of Mr Cheesacre, who
was known to be the captain's intimate friend. But she had smiles for
both of them. She had a wondrous power of smiling; and could, upon
occasion, give signs of peculiar favour to half a dozen different
gentlemen in as many minutes. They found her in the midst of hampers
which were not yet wholly packed, while Mrs Jones, Jeannette, and the
cook of the household moved around her, on the outside of the circle,
ministering to her wants. She had in her hand an outspread clean
napkin, and she wore fastened round her dress a huge coarse apron,
that she might thus be protected from some possible ebullition of
gravy, or escape of salad mixture, or cream; but in other respects
she was clothed in the fullest honours of widowhood. She had not
mitigated her weeds by half an inch. She had scorned to make any
compromise between the world of pleasure and the world of woe. There
she was, a widow, declared by herself to be of four months' standing,
with a buried heart, making ready a dainty banquet with skill and
liberality. She was ready on the instant to sit down upon the baskets
in which the grouse pie had been just carefully inhumed, and talked
about her sainted lamb with a deluge of tears. If anybody didn't like
it, that person--might do the other thing. Mr Cheesacre and Captain
Bellfield thought that they did like it.

"Oh, Mr Cheesacre, if you haven't caught me before I've half done!
Captain Bellfield, I hope you think my apron becoming."

"Everything that you wear, Mrs Greenow, is always becoming."

"Don't talk in that way when you know--; but never mind--we will
think of nothing sad to-day if we can help it. Will we, Mr
Cheesacre?"

"Oh dear no; I should think not;--unless it should come on to rain."

"It won't rain--we won't think of such a thing. But, by the by,
Captain Bellfield, I and my niece do mean to send out a few things,
just in a bag you know, so that we may tidy ourselves up a little
after the sea. I don't want it mentioned, because if it gets about
a