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"I see the manner of man he is," he told Mrs. Cobley, "and I judge that if he had a strong and sensible partner a woman with her head screwed on the right way she could handle him all right and keep him decent and straight.
Cobley's daughter To say the washing shall be sent to-morrow, And would you check the list again and see, Because she thinks she never had two collars Of what you sent, but only five, because You marked it seven; and Mrs. Cobley says There must be some mistake. You haven't got The ghost of an idea about the washing! Sit down. MRS. HAVERTON sits down in a fume. REV. A. HAVERTON: I think....
Pedlar, yet to ask her to put a rope round her neck and douse her light for evermore, married to a man she couldn't love, be a thought out of reason in my view." And Mrs. Cobley said perhaps it might be. There was a fortnight to run yet before Nicholas Bewes launched his thunderbolt on Mrs.
Cobley, wi' her long grey hair down her back, doing the work o' three men; for her two boys were down still, and I knew for one that they were not with us at the bottom; but when the basket came up with the last, and her two boys missing, she went across to the master, and asked him what he was going to do, as quiet as possible.
This Benjamin, who married the daughter of a Devonshire clergyman named Cobley, was a man of the old-fashioned, John Bull type, who loved his Church and king, believed that England was the only great country in the world, swore that Napoleon won all his battles by bribery, and would have knocked down any man who dared to disagree with him.
Cobley," she said, making to pass on; but he heard by the flutter in her speech she'd been weeping, and in his slow way held her back while he thought it out. He was got to know her tolerable well by now, so he commanded her to bide and listen. "You don't pass, Milly," he said, "till you tell me why for you be going." "To have tea along with Mrs. Bewes," she answered.
Well, Mrs. Cobley looked at him with a good bit of astonishment, for such modesty she couldn't believe ever dwelt in a male. She knew, under promise of secrecy, that Jack was a tolerable rich man; but he'd bade her not breathe the fact.
She ain't the only pebble on the beach even as a good-looker." "She can't take him if she don't love him, however," said Jack. But Mrs. Cobley didn't set much store on that. "Oh, yes, she could," the old woman replied. "Where there's respect, love often follows. And there's Jane to be remembered.
Jane's been a good aunt to Milly and, in my opinion, the girl ought to see her duty and her pleasure go together, and wed young Bewes." "And, if she don't?" asked Mr. Cobley. "Then Jane's in the street and it will be her death, because at her age you can't transplant her. You hook her out of that nice little house and she'll wilt away like a flower and very soon die of it."
Don't your heart look out of your eyes, you silly man? How old are you?" "Forty," answered Jack. "And she's twenty-five, ain't she?" "Who?" asked Jack. "You did out to be put in an asylum, though, my son," said Mrs. Cobley. "Milly Boon is the woman I'm aiming at, and it may or may not interest you to larn that she loves you better than anything on earth you you she loves, you gert tomfool!"
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