anxious that she should give way.  “Do’ee now say yes, like a dear old boy.”  She came closer to him, and took hold of his arm, as though she were going to perform that other ceremony.  But he was fully aware of the danger.  If there came to be kissing between them it would be impossible for him to go back afterward in such a manner but that the blame of the kiss should rest with him.  When he should desire to be “off,” he could not plead that the kissing had been all her doing.  A man in Mr. Prosper’s position has difficulties among which he must be very wary.  And then the ridicule of the world is so strong a weapon, and is always used on the side of the women!  He gave a little start, but he did not at once shake her off.  “What’s the objection to the ponies, dear?”

“Two pair of horses!  It’s more than we ought to keep.”  He should not have said “we.”  He felt, when it was too late, that he should not have said “we.”

“They aren’t horses.”

“It’s the same, as far as the stables are concerned.”

“But there’s room enough, Lord bless you!  I’ve been in to look.  I can assure you that Dr. Stubbs says they are required for my health.  You ask him else.  It’s just what I’m up to—­is driving.  I’ve only taken to them lately, and I cannot bring myself to give ’em up.  Do’ee love.  You’re not going to throw over your own Matilda for a couple of little beasts like that!”

Every word that came out of her mouth was an offence.  But he could not tell her so; nor could he reject her on that score.  He should have thought beforehand what kind of words might probably come out of her mouth.  Was her name Matilda?  Of course he knew the fact.  Had any one asked him he could have said, with two minutes’ consideration, that her name was Matilda.  But it had never become familiar to his ears, and now she spoke of it as though he had called her Matilda since their earliest youth.  And to be called “Love!” It might be very nice when he had first called her “Love” a dozen times; but now it sounded extravagant—­and almost indelicate.  And he was about to throw her over for a couple of little beasts.  He felt that that was his intention, and he blushed because it was so.  He was a true gentleman, who would not willingly depart from his word.  If he must go on with the ponies he must.  But he had never yet yielded about the ponies.  He felt now that they were his only hope.  But as the difficulties of his position pressed upon him the sweat stood out upon his brow.  She saw it all and understood it all, and deliberately determined to take advantage of his weakness.  “I don’t think that there is anything else astray between us.  We’ve settled about the jointure,—­four hundred a year.  It’s too little, Soames & Simpson say; but I’m soft, and in love, you know.”  Here she leered at him, and he began to hate her.  “You oughtn’t to want a third of my income, you know.  But you’re to be lord and master, and you must have your own way.  All that’s settled.”