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Updated: June 26, 2025
"It's too late," said Mrs Greenow, sinking behind her veil. "Why, you haven't been and married him since yesterday? He only had twenty-four hours' start of me, I know. Or, perhaps, you had it done clandestine in Norwich? Oh, Mrs Greenow!" He got out of the gig, and the three walked back towards the Hall together, while the boy drove on with Mr Cheesacre's carpetbag.
In Norwich there are two weekly market-days, but on those days the Captain was no doubt kept more entirely to his military employment, for at such times he never was seen near the Close. Now Mr Cheesacre's visits to the town were generally made on market-days, and so it happened that they did not meet.
Jones should not be able to see all Greene's movements, nor should Augusta always have her eye upon her sister Jane. But the spot chosen for Mr Cheesacre's picnic at Yarmouth had none of the virtues above described. It was on the seashore. Nothing was visible from the site but sand and sea. There were no trees there and nothing green; neither was there any running water.
But the offer certainly showed much generosity on the part of Aunt Greenow, inasmuch as Mr Cheesacre's attentions were apparently paid to herself rather than to her niece. Mr Cheesacre was very attentive.
She was going to leave Norwich after Easter, and they knew that such was her purpose. Something had been said of her returning to Yarmouth in the summer. She was a just woman at heart, and justice required that each of them should know what was to be his prospect if she did so return. There was a good deal to be said on Mr Cheesacre's behalf.
After that she sat herself down at the table to think what she would do; but her head was, in truth, racked with pain, and on that occasion she could bring her thoughts to no conclusion. Mr Cheesacre's Disappointment When Mrs Greenow was left alone in her lodgings, after the little entertainment which she had given to her two lovers, she sat herself down to think seriously over her affairs.
"You're a swindler!" Mrs Greenow cared little as to her lover being a swindler in Mr Cheesacre's estimation. Such accusations from him she had heard before. But she did care very much as to this mission of the police against her Captain. If that were true, the Captain could be her Captain no longer. "What is this I hear, Captain Bellfield?" she said. "It's a lie and a slander.
"And as for being dull," said the widow, "when people grow old they must be dull. Dancing can't go on for ever." In answer to this the widow's Captain assured the widow that she was not at all old; and now, on this occasion, that ceremony came off successfully which had been interrupted on the Shap road by the noise of Mr Cheesacre's wheels. "There goes my cap," said she. "What a goose you are!
But there was a long, dry, flat strand; there was an old boat half turned over, under which it was proposed to dine; and in addition to this, benches, boards, and some amount of canvas for shelter were provided by the liberality of Mr Cheesacre. Therefore it was called Mr Cheesacre's picnic.
Mrs Jones shall get you anything you like for dinner, and, and I'll stand you a bottle of the '34 port!" But Captain Bellfield was not going to put up with this. He had not sold himself altogether to work Mr Cheesacre's will. "No, old fellow," said he; "that cock won't fight. She has asked me to dine with her on Saturday, and I mean to go.
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