"I think you are quite right there, Mr. Maxfield. Rhoda is naturally very refined, and she has associated a good deal with persons of cultivated manners. I don't think Rhoda would be happy if she were obliged to give up certain little graces of life, which a great many excellent people can do without perfectly well."
Maxfield nodded approvingly. "You speak with a good deal of judgment, ma'am," said he, with the air of a recognised authority on wisdom. "But it isn't only that. Rhoda will have money—a great deal of money—more than some folks that holds their heads very high ever had or will have. Now it is but just and rightful that I should expect her husband to bring some advantages in return."
"Of course. And—ahem!—I'm sure you are too sensible a man not to consider that the best thing a husband could bring in exchange would be an honest, loving heart, and a real esteem and respect for your daughter."
Little Miss Chubb became quite fluttered after making this speech, and coloured as if she had been a girl of eighteen.
"Not at all," returned old Max decisively. "The loving heart and the esteem and respect are due to my Rhoda if she hadn't a penny. In return for her fortin' I expect something over and above."
"Oh!" exclaimed Miss Chubb, a good deal taken aback.
"Now I don't feel sure that the young man in question has that something over and above. It is Mr. Matthew Diamond, tutor at the Grammar School in this town."
"A most excellent young man! And, I'm sure, most devotedly in love with Rhoda."
"But very poor, and not of much account in the world, as far as I can make out."
"Oh, don't say that, Mr. Maxfield! He is proud and shy, and has kept himself aloof from society because he chose to do so. But he would be a welcome guest anywhere in the town or county. Young Mr. Pawkins, of Pudcombe Hall, quite courts him; he is always asking him to go over there."