Milly saw the force of that and said no more at the time.

And then Cobley spoke to his mother one night and owned to a gathering dejection.

“I like to see a job through,” he said, “and I’m casting around pretty far and wide for a man that might be good enough for that girl.  She’s a beautiful and simple character, in my opinion, and her heart’s as fine as her face; but it won’t do for her to get a fellow who is reckless and too fond of himself.  She must have the right one, who puts her first, and though there’s a few decent chaps in the running, now they know Dicky Bewes is down and out, yet I wouldn’t say there’s just the chap anybody would choose for her.”

Well, Mrs. Cobley looked at him with a good bit of astonishment, for such modesty she couldn’t believe ever dwelt in a male.  She knew, under promise of secrecy, that Jack was a tolerable rich man; but he’d bade her not breathe the fact.

And Mary Cobley knew something else also, which she couldn’t very well tell her son till now, so she’d kept her secret; but when she heard as he was busy finding somebody as might be good enough for Milly Boon, the woman in her broke loose and she said a thing she’d never said afore.

“Of all zanies, you be the biggest in the parish,” said Mrs. Cobley; “and however you had the wits to win a fortune and make hard-headed men in the West Indies believe in you, I’m gormed if I know, Jack!”

He was put about at that.

“Would you say as I didn’t ought to meddle in her affairs no more?” he asked.  “You see, I’ve comed to feel very kindly to the lovely creature, and I’d work my fingers to the bone to find the man worthy of her; but if I’m too pushing—­”

“Pushing!” she said.  “God’s light!  You be a lot too retreating, Jack, and always was.  Because you’ve got a face full of character, unlike other men’s, why for should you suppose ’twas a bug-a-boo to frighten the woman?  Don’t your heart look out of your eyes, you silly man?  How old are you?”

“Forty,” answered Jack.

“And she’s twenty-five, ain’t she?”

“Who?” asked Jack.

“You did out to be put in an asylum, though, my son,” said Mrs. Cobley.  “Milly Boon is the woman I’m aiming at, and it may or may not interest you to larn that she loves you better than anything on earth—­you—­you she loves, you gert tomfool!”

Jack looked as if he’d been struck by lightning and his pipe fell out of his mouth and broke on the hearth.

“’Tis most any odds you’re mistook,” he said, with a voice that showed what a shock he’d suffered.  “Such things be contrary to nature.”

“Nought’s contrary to nature where a woman’s concerned,” answered Mrs. Cobley as one who knew.  “They be higher than nature, and a young woman in love defies all things but her Maker—­if not Him.”

“I’ll see,” said Jack; and he went to see instanter.

Mrs. Pedlar was keeping her bed for the moment with a tissick to the tubes, and when the man got there he found Milly busy over the ancient woman’s supper.  And, as he told her, he was glad she happed to be alone, though sorry for the reason.