So Jack, he takes occasion to have a sight of young Bewes.  They met riding to hounds together, and though Richard Bewes counted himself a good many sizes bigger and more important than the returned native, he was affable and friendly and rather pleased Jack by his opinions and his good sportsmanship.

But Cobley knew very well there’s a sort of men very sporting in the open among their neighbours and very much the reverse when they are out of sight; and he also knew there’s a sort very frank and honest to their fellow men, but very much the reverse to their fellow women.  So he just took stock and had speech with Richard off and on and heard the gossip and figured up Dick pretty well.

“I see the manner of man he is,” he told Mrs. Cobley, “and I judge that if he had a strong and sensible partner—­a woman with her head screwed on the right way—­she could handle him all right and keep him decent and straight.  But she must be a woman of character who will win his respect and keep his affection—­a woman who’ll love him very well and serve him faithfully, but stand no messing about, nor any sort of nonsense.  So the question rises, be Milly Boon that sort of woman?”

His mother didn’t know.

“She’s a lovely creature,” said Mary, “and a good woman and faithful to her aunt, and that’s all I know about her.”

“Then, for your sake, I’ll look deeper into it,” Jack promised, and done so according.

He went in for a dish of tea once and again, much to Mrs. Pedlar’s astonishment, for ’twas a novelty to have a male come in her house; but Jack took it all very pleasant and heard her wrongs and condoled with her sufferings and much hoped that things might get themselves righted and Farmer Bewes be honest and keep his promise to the dead.

And meantime, he took stock of Milly Boon, and, after his first amazement at her beauty and her lovely voice, and beseeching eyes, he studied her character.  And, after due thought, he came to the conclusion that, though in his opinion a very beautiful nature belonged to Milly, and she was not only lovely, but of a gracious and gentle spirit, yet he couldn’t feel she was built to get the whip-hand of a man like Dicky Bewes.

He was properly sorry for all parties that it had to be so, but after a bit of study and thought over Milly he concluded she was in her right not to take young Bewes, because no such match would be like to pay her in the long run.

“She wants a very different man from Dicky,” he told his mother, “and though, such is her fine character, I’m sure she’d like to do all in her power for Mrs. Pedlar, yet to ask her to put a rope round her neck and douse her light for evermore, married to a man she couldn’t love, be a thought out of reason in my view.”

And Mrs. Cobley said perhaps it might be.

There was a fortnight to run yet before Nicholas Bewes launched his thunderbolt on Mrs. Pedlar and bade her be gone, and during them days two men were very busy—­one for himself and t’other for other people.