“If Kitty chooses a beggarly schoolmaster instead of you, you must not let the neighbours see you are crestfallen. It will never do in coming out of church for everyone to point at you and say, ‘Poor chap! There he goes, Jan Pooke, whom Kitty Alone would not have; and here comes Mr. Thingamy-jig, whom she prefers so highly, looking like the cock of the walk.’ It would be very shaming, Jan, and I don’t think your dear father would like it terrible much.”
“I can do nothing,” said Jan, looking wistfully at the horse’s ears: “if Kitty likes Mr. Bramber, and don’t care for me.”
“And if the story of the silver peninks gets about?”
“Don’t, Rose!” His face expressed pain.
“I don’t wish to hurt you, I wish you well, Jan, you know. I was anxious that you should not be the laughing-stock of Coombe and the neighbourhood. That would be too dreadful. I have such a regard for you. Mind you, I love dear Kitty, but I cannot blind my eyes that her has made a mistake’a happy mistake for you, because, dear, good girl as she is, I do not think that she could ha’ made you happy.”
“Why not?”
“She would have been eternally axin’ questions which you could never answer.”
“There is something in that.”
“She’d have been wanting to take you to the bottoms of wells, you know, so as to see the stars by day. You would not like that, Jan?”
“No’there is something in that.”