The Squire ate his bread and meat hastily, took a deep draught of ale, then turned his chair from the table, and began to speak again.
"It'll be all the worse for you, you know--you'd need try and help me keep things together." "Well, sir, I've often offered to take the management of things, but you know you've taken it ill always, and seemed to think I wanted to push you out of your place." "I know nothing o' your offering or o' my taking it ill," said the Squire, whose memory consisted in certain strong impressions unmodified by detail; "but I know, one while you seemed to be thinking o' marrying, and I didn't offer to put any obstacles in your way, as some fathers would.

I'd as lieve you married Lammeter's daughter as anybody.

I suppose, if I'd said you nay, you'd ha' kept on with it; but, for want o' contradiction, you've changed your mind.

You're a shilly-shally fellow: you take after your poor mother.

She never had a will of her own; a woman has no call for one, if she's got a proper man for her husband.