"Then you've guessed right," said the squire, a little annoyed at having his news thus taken out of his mouth.
"I am so glad," said Mrs. Dale; "and I know from your manner that you like the match."
"Well,—yes. I don't know the young lady, but I think that upon the whole I do like it. It's quite time, you know, that he got married."
"He's not thirty yet," said Mrs. Dale.
"He will be, in a month or two."
"And who is it, uncle?"
"Well;—as you're so good at guessing, I suppose you can guess that?"
"It's not that Miss Partridge he used to talk about?"
"No; it's not Miss Partridge,—I'm glad to say. I don't believe that the Partridges have a shilling among them."
"Then I suppose it's an heiress?" said Mrs. Dale.