Heathman laughed and shook his head.
"No, you wouldn't, Nat. You don't know Cora. None will hurry her if she's not minded to hurry. Ned has done what he could, and so have I—and so has my mother. But she's in no haste. Likes being engaged and making plans, getting presents, and having a good time and being important."
"The autumn will see them married, however," declared Mr. Baskerville. "I've told Master Ned that he'll have to draw in his horns a bit, for he's not made of money, though he seems to think so. 'Twill be his best economy to marry pretty quick and settle down. Never was a man with wilder ideas about money; but Cora's different. She's a woman with brains. He'll do well to hand her over the purse."
"She wants to start a shop at Plymouth," said Heathman. "A shop for hats and women's things. But Ned's against it. He says she shan't work—not while he can help it; and as he certainly won't work himself while he can help it, we must hope they've got tons of money."
"Which they have not," answered Nathan Baskerville. "And the sooner Ned understands that and gives ear to me, the better for his peace of mind."
Mr. Gollop entered at this moment. He was ruffled and annoyed.
"That man!" he moaned, "that headstrong, rash man will be the death of me yet. Of course, I mean Masterman. Won't let the dead rest in their graves now. Wants the churchyard turned into a pleasure-ground seemingly. Must be mowing and hacking and tacking and trimming; and no more hay; and even they old holy slates in the corner to be carted off as if they was common stones."
"Lie low and do nought," advised Joe Voysey. "'Tis a sort of fever that takes the gentleman off and on. He catches the fit from his sister. She'll be down on me sometimes, with all her feathers up and everything wrong. I must set to that instant moment and tidy the garden for my dear life, till not a blade be out of place. Likes to see the grass plot so sleek as a boy's head after Sunday pomatum. But the way is to listen with all due and proper attention, as becomes us afore our betters, and then—forget it. The true kindness and charity be to let 'em have their talk out, and even meet 'em in little things here and there—if it can be done without loss of our self-respect. But we understand best. Don't you never forget that, Thomas. Where the yard and the garden be concerned, you and me must be first in the land. They be children to us, and should be treated according. We've forgot more than they ever knowed about such things."
Others came and went; Joe and Thomas matured their Fabian tactics; Nathan Baskerville, with his nephew and young Lintern, set off in a pony trap for Cadworthy. The bells still rioted and rang their ceaseless music; for these new-made wives and husbands were being honoured with the long-drawn, melodious thunder of a full five-bell 'peal.'