"I like a descent," said Shirley—"I like to clear it rapidly; and especially I like that romantic Hollow, with all my heart."
"Romantic—with a mill in it?"
"Romantic with a mill in it. The old mill and the white cottage are each admirable in its way."
"And the counting-house, Mr. Keeldar?"
"The counting-house is better than my bloom-coloured drawing-room: I adore the counting-house."
"And the trade? The cloth—the greasy wool—the polluting dyeing-vats?"
"The trade is to be thoroughly respected."
"And the tradesman is a hero? Good!"
"I am glad to hear you say so: I thought the tradesman looked heroic."
Mischief, spirit, and glee sparkled all over her face as she thus bandied words with the old Cossack, who almost equally enjoyed the tilt.
"Captain Keeldar, you have no mercantile blood in your veins: why are you so fond of trade?"
"Because I am a mill-owner, of course. Half my income comes from the works in that Hollow."
"Don't enter into partnership, that's all."
"You've put it into my head! you've put it into my head!" she exclaimed, with a joyous laugh. "It
