but I said it would be nicer for her if she waited
till the shearing was over, and I took her down to see you. I suppose
she will have to live with us (Em's cousin, I mean), as she has not
anything in the world but a poor fifty pounds. I don't like her at all,
Jemima, and I don't think you would. She's got such queer ways; she's
always driving about in a gig with that low German; and I don't think
it's at all the thing for a woman to be going about with a man she's
not engaged to. Do you? If it was me now, of course, who am a kind of
connection, it would be different. The way she treats me, considering
that I am so soon to be her cousin, is not at all nice. I took down my
album the other day with your likenesses in it, and I told her she could
look at it, and put it down close to her; but she just said, Thank you,
and never even touched it, as much as to say--What are your relations to
me?

"She gets the wildest horses in that buggy, and a horrid snappish little
cur belonging to the German sitting in front, and then she drives out
alone. I don't think it's at all proper for a woman to drive out alone;
I wouldn't allow it if she was my sister. The other morning, I don't
know how it happened, I was going in the way from which she was coming,
and that little beast--they call him Doss--began to bark when he saw
me--he always does, the little wretch--and the horses began to spring,
and kicked the splashboard all to pieces. It was a sight to see Jemima!
She has got the littlest hands I ever saw--I could hold them both in
one of mine, and not know that I'd got anything except that they were
so soft; but she held those horses in as though they were made of iron.
When I wanted to help her she said, 'No thank you: I can manage them
myself. I've got a pair of bits that would break their jaws if I used
them well,' and she laughed and drove away. It's so unwomanly.

"Tell father my hire of the ground will not be out for six months, and
before that Em and I will be married. My pair of birds is breeding now,
but I haven't been down to see them for three days. I don't seem to care
about anything any more. I don't know what it is; I'm not well. If I
go into town on Saturday I will let the doctor examine me; but perhaps
she'll go in herself. It's a very strange thing, Jemima, but she never
will send her letters to post by me. If I ask her she has none, and
the very next day she goes in and posts them herself. You mustn't say
anything a