My first sweetheart was Bet Butterfield, but what of that? What must be
must be; grief will never fill the belly. She was a fine strapping
wench, that is the truth of it! five foot ten inches, and as stout as a
trooper. Oh, she would do a power of work! Up early and down late;
milked ten cows with her own hands; on with her cardinal, rode to market
between her panniers, fair weather and foul, hail, blow, or snow. It
would have done your heart good to have seen her frost-bitten cheeks, as
red as a beefen from her own orchard! Ah! she was a maid of mettle;
would romp with the harvestmen, slap one upon the back, wrestle with
another, and had a rogue's trick and a joke for all round. Poor girl!
she broke her neck down stairs at a christening. To be sure I shall
never meet with her fellow! But never you mind that; I do not doubt that
I shall find more in you upon further acquaintance. As coy and bashful
as you seem, I dare say you are rogue enough at bottom. When I have
touzled and rumpled you a little, we shall see. I am no chicken, miss,
whatever you may think. I know what is what, and can see as far into a
millstone as another. Ay, ay; you will come to. The fish will snap at
the bait, never doubt it. Yes, yes, we shall rub on main well together."

Emily by this time had in some degree mustered up her spirits, and
began, though with hesitation, to thank Mr. Grimes for his good opinion,
but to confess that she could never be brought to favour his addresses.
She therefore entreated him to desist from all further application. This
remonstrance on her part would have become more intelligible, had it not
been for his boisterous manners and extravagant cheerfulness, which
indisposed him to silence, and made him suppose that at half a word he
had sufficient intimation of another's meaning. Mr. Tyrrel, in the mean
time, was too impatient not to interrupt the scene before they could
have time to proceed far in explanation; and he was studious in the
sequel to prevent the young folks from being too intimately acquainted