"I suppose Captain Bellfield has given you a kiss and a pair of gloves."
"As for gloves and such like, Mr. Cheesacre is much better for giving than the Captain; as we all know; don't we, ma'am? But in regard to kisses, they're presents as I never takes from anybody. Let everybody pay his debts. If the Captain ever gets a wife, let him kiss her."
On the following Tuesday morning Mr. Cheesacre as usual called in the Close, but he brought with him no basket. He merely left a winter nosegay made of green leaves and laurestinus flowers, and sent up a message to say that he should call at half past three, and hoped that he might then be able to see Mrs. Greenow—on particular business.
"That means you, Kate," said Mrs. Greenow.
"No, it doesn't; it doesn't mean me at all. At any rate he won't see me."
"I dare say it's me he wishes to see. It seems to be the fashionable plan now for gentlemen to make offers by deputy. If he says anything, I can only refer him to you, you know."
"Yes, you can; you can tell him simply that I won't have him. But he is no more thinking of me than—"
"Than he is of me, you were going to say."
"No, aunt; I wasn't going to say that at all."
"Well, we shall see. If he does mean anything, of course you can please yourself; but I really think you might do worse."