that she must reject him--"

"She oughtn't to have made up her mind."

"But if she did, it seems natural to me that she should speak of it
to no one. She might probably think that Bernard would be as well
pleased that it should not be known."

"Psha,--known!--of course it will be known. As you want time to
consider of it, I will say nothing more now. If she were my daughter,
I should have no hesitation in telling her what I thought best for
her welfare."

"I have none; though I may have some in making up my mind as to what
is best for her welfare. But, Mr Dale, you may be sure of this; I
will speak to her very earnestly of your kindness and love for her.
And I wish you would believe that I feel your regard for her very
strongly."

In answer to this he merely shook his head, and hummed and hawed.
"You would be glad to see them married, as regards yourself?" he
asked.

"Certainly I would," said Mrs Dale. "I have always liked Bernard, and
I believe my girl would be safe with him. But then, you see, it's a
question on which my own likings or dislikings should not have any
bearing."

And so they parted, the squire making his way back again through
the drawing-room window. He was not above half pleased with his
interview; but then he was a man for whom half-pleasure almost
sufficed. He rarely indulged any expectation that people would make
themselves agreeable to him. Mrs Dale, since she had come to the
Small House, had never been a source of satisfaction to him, but he
did not on that account regret that he had brought her there. He
was a constant man; urgent in carrying out his own plans, but not
sanguine in doing so, and by no means apt to expect that all things
would go smooth with him. He had made up his mind that his nephew and
his niece should be married, and should he ultimately fail in this,
such failure would probably embitter his future life;--but it was not
in the nature of the man to be angry in the meantime, or to fume and
scold because he met with opposition. He had told Mrs Dale that he
loved Bell dearly. So he did, though he seldom spoke to her with much
show of special regard, and never was soft and tender with her. But,
on the other hand, he did not now love her the less because she
opposed his wishes. He was a constant, undemonstrative man, given
rather to brooding than to thinking; harder in his words than in his
thoughts, with more of heart than others believed, or than he himself
knew; but, a