“You are a strong healthy girl, Prudence.”
“Aye—that I be, thank the Lard!”
Sir Geoffrey was not the man to let pass such an opportunity. It may be mentioned here that he had made sacrifices for his people, amongst which may be counted the giving up of a town house, foreign travel, and the riding of less expensive hunters not quite up to his weight. He said gravely:
“You can thank me, too, Prudence. The sanitary condition of Nether Applewhite put that fine colour into your cheeks, my girl.” Prudence curtsied. “Go on, Ben. Forrard away!”
If the Squire was swift to grasp his opportunities, as much and more could be said of Fishpingle. He had reason to believe that love passages had taken place between Alfred and Prudence, and a marriage between these young people would be, in his opinion, the real right thing. Would the Squire encourage such a match?
“Alfred,” he said, looking at the Squire as he spoke, “is also a fine specimen of what a young man ought to be. And a marriage between you two young persons would be, from the point of view of eugenics——”
“Disastrous!”
Sir Geoffrey, sitting bolt upright, snapped out the adjective.
“Oh-h-h!” exclaimed Prudence. Fishpingle was surprised also.
“I beg your pardon, Sir Geoffrey.”