“Happy to hear if, Master Tetlow,” replied Nicholas, “she’ll be better pleased before the day’s over, I’ll warrant her.  I’ll dance a round with her myself in the hall at night.”

“Theere now, Meg, whoy dunna ye may t’ squoire a curtsy, wench, an thonk him,” said Tetlow, nudging his pretty wife, who had turned away, rather embarrassed by the free gaze of the squire.  Nicholas, however, did not wait for the curtsy, but went away, laughing, to overtake Richard Assheton, who had walked on.

“Ah, here’s Frank Garside,” he continued, espying another rustic acquaintance.  “Halloa, Frank, I’ll come over one day next week, and try for a fox in Easington Woods.  We missed the last, you know.  Tom Brockholes, are you here?  Just ridden over from Sladeburne, eh?  When is that shooting match at the bodkin to come off, eh?  Mind, it is to be at twenty-two roods’ distance.  Ride over to Downham on Thursday next, Tom.  We’re to have a foot-race, and I’ll show you good sport, and at night we’ll have a lusty drinking bout at the alehouse.  On Friday, we’ll take out the great nets, and try for salmon in the Ribble.  I took some fine fish on Monday—­one salmon of ten pounds’ weight, the largest I’ve got the whole season.—­I brought it with me to-day to the Abbey.  There’s an otter in the river, and I won’t hunt him till you come, Tom.  I shall see you on Thursday, eh?”

Receiving an answer in the affirmative, squire Nicholas walked on, nodding right and left, jesting with the farmers, and ogling their pretty wives and daughters.

“I tell you what, cousin Dick,” he said, calling after Richard Assheton, who had got in advance of him, “I’ll match my dun nag against your grey gelding for twenty pieces, that I reach the boundary line of the Rough Lee lands before you to-morrow.  What, you won’t have it?  You know I shall beat you—­ha! ha!  Well, we’ll try the speed of the two tits the first day we hunt the stag in Bowland Forest.  Odds my life!” he cried, suddenly altering his deportment and lengthening his visage, “if there isn’t our parson here.  Stay with me, cousin Dick, stay with me.  Give you good-day, worthy Mr. Dewhurst,” he added, taking off his hat to the divine, who respectfully returned his salutation, “I did not look to see your reverence here, taking part in these vanities and idle sports.  I propose to call on you on Saturday, and pass an hour in serious discourse.  I would call to-morrow, but I have to ride over to Pendle on business.  Tarry a moment for me, I pray you, good cousin Richard.  I fear, reverend sir, that you will see much here that will scandalise you; much lightness and indecorum.  Pleasanter far would it be to me to see a large congregation of the elders flocking together to a godly meeting, than crowds assembled for such a profane purpose.  Another moment, Richard.  My cousin is a young man, Mr. Dewhurst, and wishes to join the revel.  But we must make allowances, worthy and reverend sir, until the world shall improve.  An excellent discourse