Page:Under the greenwood tree (1872 Volume 1).pdf/139

you look as long-favoured as a fiddle, upon my life, Ann. There, you must be wearied out, 'tis true. I'll do the doors and wind up the clock; and you go on, or you'll be as white as a sheet to-morrow.'

'Ay; I don't know whether I sha'n't or no.' The matron pressed her hand across her eyes to brush away the film of sleep till she got upstairs.

Dick wondered how it was that when people where married they could be so blind to romance; he was quite certain that if he ever took to wife that dear impossible Fancy, he and she would never be so dreadfully practical and undemonstrative of the Passion as his father and mother were. The most extraordinary thing was, that all the fathers and mothers he knew were just as undemonstrative as his own.