"Bless 'y," said Hannaford, "ten thousand pounds is a terrible big sum to pay. Take the creature."
Thus it came about that Chowne yielded to the less disagreeable alternative. Poor Jane Heathman! she little thought of what was in store for her. Her brothers had shown her a cruel kindness in forcing her into the arms of a reluctant suitor.
To return to the wedding day, after the offer made to and accepted by Sally.
About one o'clock Chowne returned alone, seated himself composedly in his dining-room, and ordered dinner.
"But where be the wife?" asked Sally. "Haven't 'ee been married then?"
"Aye, married I have been, though."
"But where be Mistress Chowne?"
"She's at the public-house good three miles from here, Sally. She said to me as we were coming along, 'That is a point on which I differ from you.' Some point on which we were speaking. So I stopped, and looked her in the face, and I said to her, 'Mrs. Chowne, I never allow any one outside my house to differ from me, and not everlastingly repent it afterwards. And I won't allow any one inside my house to differ from me. So you can remain at this tavern and turn the matter over in your mind. If you intend to have no will of your own, and no opinion other than mine, then you can walk on at your leisure to Blackamoor. If not, you can turn back and go home to where you came from. Nobody expects you at Blackamoor, and nobody wants you there. So you are heartily welcome to keep away. So—serve the dinner, Sally, for one."
An hour and a half later the bride arrived on foot, forlorn and humbled, and met with an ungracious reception from Sally.