"Need we go over this oft-trodden ground again?" May asked rather wearily. "I can only reiterate that I really can't and won't marry any one I do not care for."
"I don't believe there is the man in creation that you will care for. It really would be wise for you to accept the one you least dislike."
"Or not marry anybody."
"That is a more than likely alternative. You are five-and-twenty now, and you might have been married over and over again."
May laughed. "I don't know why you are so keen to get rid of me. You will be dreadfully lonely without me; not to say dull."
"That's true enough," said Mrs. Webster, softening; "but a girl like you ought to marry. You won't make a good old maid."
"No," May admitted candidly.
And this question of marriage, which was sorely perplexing the mistress, was pressing hard also upon her maid, for pretty Rose Lancaster, who had successfully played off her rival suitors against each other for a year, was at last compelled to make her choice between them. Tom Burney had that day received an offer from the squire of a free passage to Tasmania, and a very good appointment on a farm there with a relation of Mr. Lessing's, where, if he gave satisfaction, he might in a few years look forward to part-ownership.
"I only propose to part with you because agriculture does not pay, or I have not learned the way to make it do so," the squire had said. "I have been making up my mind to reduce my staff; and, my cousin having lately written to me about a suitable man, it occurred to me to give you the first offer."
Tom coloured with pleasure. "Thank you, sir; it seems a great chance. It would be a certainty, wouldn't it? I could take another with me."