;nothing
to
look
forward
to
but
bed-time
.
Yah
!
How
dull
!
A
knock
comes
at
the
door
.
Miss
Blessington
enters
with
flowers
in
her
hand
—
jessamine
,
heliotrope
,
everything
that
smells
sweetly
and
not
heavily
—
unlike
Bob
's
well
meaning
but
annihilating
double
stocks
.
"
I
hope
you
are
in
less
pain
now
"
(
the
usual
formula
,
that
comes
as
regularly
and
frequently
as
the
doxology
in
church
)
.
"
Oh
yes
!
thanks
;
I
'm
very
well
"
(
yawning
and
looking
woefully
bored
.
)
"
What
lovely
flowers
!
"
"
St.
John
sent
them
to
you
"
(
rather
shortly
)
.
"
Mr.
Gerard
?
"
(
with
animation
,
the
bored
look
vanishing
.
)
"
How
very
kind
of
him
!
"
"
He
always
is
so
good-natured
,
"
answers
Constance
,
with
a
cold
generality
.
"
It
is
so
particularly
kind
of
him
,
when
he
has
such
an
overpowering
aversion
for
strangers
,
"
continues
Essie
,
with
a
malicious
twinkle
in
her
eyes
.
Constance
sweeps
to
the
window
,
slightly
discomfited
.
"
He
told
me
to
ask
you
whether
you
would
like
him
to
come
and
carry
you
downstairs
for
an
hour
or
two
?
"
she
says
,
in
a
somewhat
constrained
voice
;
"
but
I
daresay
you
would
rather
be
left
in
peace
up
here
;
and
I
should
think
that
the
quieter
you
kept
your
foot
the
better
for
it
.
"
"
On
the
contrary
,
I
should
like
it
of
all
things
,
"
cries
Essie
,
with
perverse
alacrity
.
"
In
your
cheerful
company
downstairs
,
I
shall
be
more
likely
to
forget
my
sufferings
,
such
as
they
are
,
than
all
by
my
dull
self
up
here
;
to
tell
the
truth
,
I
was
meditating
asking
your
maid
to
come
and
talk
to
me
about
haberdashery
.
"
Outside
Miss
Craven
's
door
St.
John
pauses
,
as
one
that
is
devout
hesitates
on
the
threshold
of
a
sanctuary
.
Chintz
curtains
rose-lined
,
white-dressed
toilet-table
,
simple
valueless
ornaments
lying
about
,
two
little
slippers
,
that
look
as
if
they
had
been
just
kicked
off
—
his
eye
takes
in
all
the
details
.
He
feels
like
Faust
in
Marguerite
's
chamber
.
And
Marguerite
herself
,
lying
careless
,
restful
on
her
couch
,
her
two
arms
flung
lazily
upwards
and
backwards
,
to
make
a
resting-place
for
her
head
;
the
smooth
elbows
and
shoulders
gleaming
warm
,
cream-white
,
through
the
colder
blue-white
of
her
dress
;
and
the
up-looking
face
,
childish
in
its
roundness
,
and
blooming
down
—
but
oh
!
most
womanish
—
in
the
shafts
of
quick
fire
that
greet
him
from
the
laughing
,
sleepy
eyes
:
Where
did
she
learn
that
art
of
shooting
?
From
the
pigs
and
cabbages
at
Glan-yr-Afon
?
From
old
Mrs.
Brandon
?
From
Miss
Bessie
?
From
—
"
Stop
the
Leak
?
"
Deponent
sayeth
not
whence
.
"
How
good
of
you
!
"
she
says
,
with
emphasis
,
stretching
out
her
hand
to
him
,
as
he
stands
beside
her
sofa
,
looking
rather
fagged
with
his
day
's
work
.
"
I
had
just
been
calculating
how
many
hours
there
would
be
before
I
could
have
a
decent
pretext
for
going
to
bed
;
one
gets
so
tired
of
oneself
.
"
"
Not
so
tired
as
one
does
of
one
's
family
,
"
answers
St.
John
,
rather
ruefully
.
"
I
have
no
family
,
"
she
rejoins
,
simply
.
"
We
Gerards
have
a
particularly
happy
knack
of
rubbing
each
other
the
wrong
way
,
"
he
says
,
rather
irritably
.
"
I
am
sometimes
tempted
to
think
that
we
are
the
most
unamiable
family
God
ever
put
breath
into
.
"
"
People
always
think
that
of
their
own
family
,
"
answers
Essie
,
laughing
;
"
they
know
their
own
little
crookednesses
much
better
than
any
one
else
's
.
"
"
Has
Miss
Craven
changed
her
mind
,
St.
John
?
"
asks
Miss
Blessington
from
the
doorway
.
St.
John
starts
.
"
Not
that
I
know
of
.
"
He
stoops
,
and
lifts
her
carefully
,
as
a
thing
most
precious
;
as
he
does
so
,
a
little
foolish
trembling
passes
over
her
,
as
a
baby-breeze
passes
over
some
still
pool
's
breast
,
hardly
troubling
the
sky
and
the
trees
that
lie
far
down
in
the
blue
mirror
.
Down
the
grand
staircase
he
bears
her
,
and
Constance
follows
to
see
that
there
is
no
loitering
by
the
way
.
The
morning-room
at
Felton
(
so
called
because
the
family
always
sit
there
in
the
evenings
)
is
very
lofty
.
You
have
to
crane
your
neck
up
to
see
the
stucco
stalactites
,
faintly
imitative
of
Staffa
and
Iona
,
pendant
from
the
ceiling
.
There
are
statuettes
in
plenty
standing
about
in
niches
and
on
pedestals
.
Venuses
and
Minervas
and
Clyties
,
all
with
their
hair
very
elaborately
dressed
,
and
not
a
stitch
of
clothes
on
.
There
is
a
great
litter
of
papers
and
magazines
on
the
round
table
:
the
Justice
of
the
Peace
,
that
is
Sir
Thomas
's
;
the
Field
,
that
is
St.
John
's
;
the
Cornhill
,
that
is
everybody
's
.
Sir
Thomas
and
miladi
are
playing
backgammon
;
miladi
is
compelled
to
do
so
every
night
as
a
penance
for
her
sins
—
four
rubbers
,
and
if
he
wins
,
as
she
prays
and
endeavours
that
he
may
,
five
.
"
Do
n't
take
the
dice
up
in
such
a
hurry
,
miladi
,
"
he
says
,
snappishly
;
"
how
the
deuce
can
I
see
what
your
throw
is
?
"
"
Seizes
,
Sir
Thomas
,
"
responds
miladi
,
meekly
.
"
Seizes
!
do
n't
believe
a
word
of
it
!
much
more
like
seize
ace
!
"
Miss
Blessington
,
dressed
by
Elise
in
Chambéry
gauze
,
and
by
Nature
in
her
usual
panoply
of
beautiful
stupidity
,
which
she
wears
sleeping
and
waking
,
at
home
and
abroad
,
living
and
dying
,
is
at
work
at
a
little
table
,
a
nude
Dian
,
with
cold
,
chaste
smile
and
crinkly
hair
,
on
a
red
velvet
shrine
just
above
her
head
.
"
Do
they
play
every
evening
?
"
asks
Esther
,
from
the
recess
where
she
has
been
deposited
by
St.
John
,
whose
eyes
she
encounters
,
considering
her
attentively
over
the
top
of
the
Saturday
.
Shams
,
Flunkeyism
,
Woman
's
Rights
,
Dr.
Cumming
,
the
Girl
of
the
Period
—
they
have
all
been
passing
through
his
eye
into
his
brain
,
and
,
mixed
with
Esther
Craven
,
make
a
fine
jumble
there
.
St.
John
has
been
rather
unlucky
in
his
experiences
of
women
hitherto
.
He
has
got
rather
into
the
habit
of
thinking
that
all
good
women
must
be
stupid
,
and
that
all
pleasant
women
must
be
bad
.
Esther
is
not
stupid
.
Is
she
bad
,
then
?
Those
glances
of
hers
,
they
give
a
man
odd
sensations
about
the
midriff
;
they
inspire
in
him
a
greedy
,
covetous
desire
for
more
of
them
;
but
are
they
such
as
Una
would
have
given
her
Red
Cross
Knight
?
Are
they
such
as
a
man
would
like
to
see
his
wife
bestow
on
his
men
friends
?
The
wilder
a
man
is
or
has
been
himself
,
the
more
scrupulously
fastidious
he
is
about
the
almost
prudish
nicety
of
the
women
that
belong
to
him
.
He
likes
to
see
the
sheep
and
the
goats
as
plainly
,
widely
separated
as
they
are
in
the
parable
;
it
moves
him
to
deep
wrath
when
he
sees
a
good
woman
faintly
,
poorly
imitating
a
bad
one
.
I
do
not
think
that
good
women
believe
this
half
generally
enough
;
or
,
if
they
do
,
they
do
not
act
upon
it
.
"
Do
they
play
every
evening
?
"
"
Every
evening
,
and
Sir
Thomas
always
accuses
my
mother
of
cheating
.
"
"
And
you
,
what
do
you
do
?
"
"
Read
,
go
to
sleep
,
play
cribbage
or
bézique
with
Conny
.
"
"
Does
she
live
here
always
?
"
"
Always
.
"
"
You
and
she
are
inseparable
,
I
suppose
?
"
"
We
get
on
very
well
in
a
quiet
way
;
she
is
a
very
good
girl
,
and
comes
and
sits
in
my
smoking-room
by
the
hour
with
me
.
"
"
Wrong
,
but
pleasant
,
as
the
monkey
said
when
he
kissed
the
cat
,
"
remarks
Esther
,
flippantly
.
"
You
are
very
fond
of
her
,
I
suppose
?
"
"
H
'm
!
"
shrugging
his
shoulders
.
"
I
have
a
cat-like
propensity
for
getting
fond
of
anything
that
I
live
and
eat
and
breathe
with
—
like
the
fellow
in
the
Bastille
,
do
n't
you
know
,
that
got
so
fond
of
a
spider
.
I
never
should
have
grown
fond
of
a
spider
,
though
;
they
have
got
such
a
monstrous
lot
of
long
legs
;
but
the
principle
is
the
same
.
"
"
Why
are
not
you
fond
of
Sir
Thomas
then
?
"
"
So
I
am
,
I
suppose
,
in
a
way
;
if
he
were
to
tumble
into
the
pool
,
I
suppose
I
should
hop
in
and
fish
him
out
again
;
I
'm
not
quite
sure
about
that
,
either
.
"
"
We
'll
have
another
rubber
,
miladi
?
"
shouts
Sir
Thomas
's
stentor
voice
,
elate
with
victory
;
"
that
is
the
ninth
game
I
have
beat
you
to-night
;
you
'll
never
win
as
long
as
you
leave
so
many
blots
—
I
have
told
you
so
a
score
of
times
.
"
Poor
miladi
,
strangling
a
gigantic
yawn
,
begins
to
set
her
men
again
;
she
had
hoped
that
her
punishment
was
ended
for
the
night
,
and
that
she
might
be
dismissed
to
the
otium
cum
dignitate
of
her
armchair
and
nap
.
St.
John
jumps
up
and
walks
over
to
the
players
;
there
are
few
things
in
life
he
hates
so
much
as
playing
backgammon
with
his
father
,
but
he
hates
seeing
his
mother
bullied
even
more
.
If
a
man
is
cursed
with
a
necessity
foi
loving
something
,
the
chances
are
that
he
will
love
his
mother
,
even
if
she
bear
more
resemblance
to
a
porpoise
than
to
a
Christian
lady
.
"
I
'll
have
a
rubber
with
you
,
Sir
Thomas
;
my
mother
is
tired
.
"
"
Fiddlesticks
!
"
growls
Sir
Thomas
.
"
Tired
!
what
the
devil
has
she
been
doing
to
tire
herself
?
—
fiddle-faddled
about
the
garden
,
picking
off
half
a
dozen
dead
roses
.
Very
good
thing
for
her
if
she
is
.
"
But
the
man
's
will
is
stronger
than
the
turkey-cock
's
,
and
the
latter
yields
.
CHAPTER
XII
.
A
SPRAINED
ankle
takes
mostly
a
tedious
weary
time
in
getting
mended
.
Esther
's
,
however
,
is
but
a
slight
sprain
,
and
entails
only
a
week
's
lying
on
a
thoroughly
comfortable
,
well-stuffed
sofa
close
to
one
of
the
library
's
windows
,
where
mignonette
ends
up
continual
presents
of
the
strongest
and
sweetest
of
all
flower-perfumes
to
her
grateful
nostrils
—
entails
also
being
made
a
fuss
with
.
If
Miss
Blessington
had
had
her
will
,
the
sofa
would
have
been
upstairs
,
and
the
being
made
a
fuss
with
,
save
by
a
compassionate
lady
's
maid
,
dispensed
with
.
Miss
Blessington
desires
sincerely
,
in
her
affectionate
solicitude
for
her
welfare
,
to
keep
the
young
patient
in
a
graceful
and
pleasing
solitude
upstairs
.
The
young
patient
,
being
of
a
gregarious
turn
of
mind
,
desires
sincerely
to
be
brought
down
:
and
the
son
of
the
house
,
although
not
particularly
young
,
and
in
general
not
particularly
gregarious
,
desires
sincerely
to
bring
her
down
.
It
is
a
case
of
Pull
,
Devil
;
Pull
,
Baker
!
—
Baker
being
represented
by
Constance
,
Devil
by
St.
John
and
Esther
.
But
two
pull
stronger
than
one
,
and
they
gain
their
point
.
"
Is
Miss
Craven
ready
to
come
down
?
"
asks
St.
John
,
one
morning
,
addressing
the
question
to
Miss
Blessington
as
they
stand
together
after
breakfast
.
"
I
do
n't
know
,
I
'm
sure
.
St.
John
?
"
"
Well
!
"
"
If
,
"
she
says
,
giving
a
little
factitious
cough
,
and
speaking
with
her
usual
amiable
smile
,
"
it
is
any
object
to
Miss
Craven
to
get
well
—
"
"
I
should
imagine
that
there
could
be
no
doubt
on
that
point
,
"
he
answers
,
picking
up
the
Pall
Mall
.
"
I
do
n't
know
,
"
she
rejoins
,
with
a
certain
air
of
doubtful
reserve
.
"
It
is
generally
considered
pleasanter
to
have
two
legs
to
go
upon
than
one
,
is
n't
it
?
It
is
not
many
people
that
,
like
Cleopatra
,
can
'
hop
forty
paces
through
the
public
streets
.
'
Have
you
any
reason
for
imputing
to
Miss
Craven
a
morbid
taste
for
invalidhood
?
"
"
No
;
but
she
is
hardly
an
invalid
,
and
to
be
made
so
much
of
as
you
,
with
your
usual
good-nature
to
the
waifs
and
strays
of
humanity
,
make
of
her
,
must
be
a
sensation
as
pleasant
as
novel
.
"
"
I
am
wonderfully
good-natured
,
are
n't
I
?
"
he
says
,
laughing
broadly
to
himself
behind
the
little
yellowy
sheets
of
the
Pall
Mall
.
"
There
is
not
one
man
in
a
hundred
that
,
in
my
place
,
would
do
the
same
,
is
there
?
"
She
is
silent
;
the
resentment
of
a
slow
nature
,
that
has
a
suspicion
of
being
laughed
at
,
but
is
not
sure
of
it
,
smouldering
within
her
.
"
Come
,
Conny
,
you
began
a
sentence
just
now
which
you
left
unfinished
,
like
a
pig
with
one
ear
.
'
If
it
is
really
an
object
to
Miss
Craven
to
get
well
'
—
what
then
?
"
"
If
it
is
really
an
object
to
Miss
Craven
to
get
well
,
I
should
think
that
she
would
be
more
likely
to
attain
it
by
lying
quietly
upstairs
than
by
being
continually
moved
from
place
to
place
;
that
is
what
I
was
going
to
say
.
"
"
I
am
sorry
you
think
me
such
an
Orson
as
to
rush
up
and
downstairs
with
such
tremendous
violence
as
to
run
the
risk
of
dislocating
her
limbs
.
"
Miss
Blessington
turns
away
pettishly
.
"
I
wonder
the
girl
likes
to
give
you
the
trouble
of
perpetually
carrying
her
about
the
house
.
"
"
She
is
well
aware
that
trouble
is
a
pleasure
.
"
"
Fully
half
her
day
is
spent
on
the
staircase
and
in
the
passages
in
your
arms
.
"
"
What
a
horribly
immoral
picture
—
vice
stalking
rampant
through
the
Felton
corridors
in
the
shape
of
me
carrying
a
poor
lame
child
that
cannot
carry
herself
!
"
"
It
may
be
a
pleasure
to
you
,
"
says
Constance
,
harking
back
to
her
former
speech
,
"
but
it
can
hardly
be
so
to
her
—
to
be
haled
about
like
a
bale
of
goods
by
a
total
stranger
like
yourself
.
If
you
were
her
brother
,
I
grant
you
,
it
would
be
different
.
"
"
If
I
were
her
brother
it
would
be
different
,
"
assents
Gerard
,
blandly
.
The
sentence
is
Miss
Blessington
's
own
,
and
yet
,
by
fresh
accentuation
,
it
is
made
exactly
to
contradict
itself
.
"
You
mean
it
good-naturedly
,
I
do
n't
doubt
,
but
I
am
riot
at
all
sure
that
it
is
not
mistaken
kindness
.
"
"
That
what
is
not
mistaken
kindness
?
"
"
You
are
very
dull
of
comprehension
this
morning
,
St.
John
.
"
"
I
always
am
at
these
untimely
hours
;
it
requires
the
flame
of
evening
to
light
up
the
torch
of
my
intellect
.
Be
lenient
to
my
infirmities
,
and
explain
;
I
am
all
attention
.
"
"
My
meaning
is
sufficiently
clear
,
I
should
imagine
,
"
she
retorts
,
with
lady-like
,
gentle
exasperation
.
"
If
you
had
left
the
girl
in
her
original
obscurity
,
it
would
have
been
all
very
well
;
but
to
be
taken
up
and
dropped
again
—
"
"
Like
a
hot
chesnut
!
"
"
Pshaw
!
to
be
taken
up
and
dropped
again
is
hardly
pleasant
.
"
"
Hardly
.
"
"
And
when
you
drop
her
—
"
"
Literally
or
metaphorically
?
—
on
the
stone
floor
,
or
out
of
the
light
of
my
favour
?
"
"
When
you
drop
her
"
(
disdaining
to
notice
the
interruption
)
—
"
Well
,
what
then
?
"
he
says
,
laying
down
the
paper
,
and
turning
his
face
,
kindled
by
a
certain
honest
self-contempt
,
towards
her
—
"
To
be
dropped
by
me
!
what
a
prodigious
calamity
!
Hitherto
,
Conny
,
your
sex
has
made
,
with
regard
to
me
,
more
use
of
the
active
than
the
passive
voice
of
the
verb
to
drop
.
"
"
Nonsense
!
"
she
says
,
scornfully
;
"
that
is
the
pride
that
apes
humility
.
Of
course
,
so
much
notice
as
you
lavish
on
her
is
likely
to
turn
the
head
of
a
girl
who
has
hitherto
probably
received
no
attentions
more
flattering
than
those
of
some
Welsh
grazier
;
and
when
you
drop
her
—
"
"
When
I
drop
her
,
"
he
repeats
,
impatiently
,
tired
of
the
subject
,
and
of
the
repetition
of
the
phrase
—
"
she
will
be
no
worse
off
than
she
was
before
that
misfortune
happened
to
her
.
"
So
Esther
lies
all
day
long
in
lazy
contentment
upon
the
sofa
,
looking
out
at
the
garden
,
and
at
the
fountain
where
four
bronze
dolphins
spout
continual
showers
of
spray
in
the
autumn
sunlight
:
dips
into
Owen
Meredith
's
last
poems
;
peeps
between
the
crisp
uncut
leaves
of
new
magazine
or
novel
;
and
looks
forward
towards
the
ante-dinner
hour
,
when
St.
John
will
come
in
from
the
day
's
amusement
or
occupation
,
and
passive
content
will
be
exchanged
for
active
enjoyment
.
Esther
has
,
as
you
know
,
made
but
light
of
her
accident
in
her
letters
to
her
lover
;
fearing
lest
,
in
his
eager
anxiety
on
her
account
,
he
might
get
into
the
train
,
and
give
her
the
unexpected
pleasure
of
seeing
him
arrive
at
Felton
—
seeing
him
arrive
in
his
threadbare
shooting
jacket
,
through
whose
sleeves
he
always
appears
to
have
thrust
his
long
arms
too
far
,
and
his
patched
,
creaking
,
Naullan
boots
.
Imagine
St.
John
introduced
to
those
boots
!
A
cold
shiver
runs
down
her
spine
at
the
bare
idea
.
St.
John
is
no
dandy
,
it
is
true
,
but
coats
from
Poole
's
are
as
much
a
matter
of
course
to
him
as
a
knife
and
fork
to
eat
his
dinner
with
,
or
a
bed
to
lie
upon
.
On
the
afternoon
of
the
day
on
which
the
above-reported
short
dialogue
took
place
,
St.
John
and
his
father
,
converging
from
different
points
of
the
compass
to
one
centre
,
enter
almost
at
the
same
moment
the
library
.
Two
canary-coloured
Colossi
have
just
deposited
tea
on
a
small
table
.
St.
John
has
neither
neckerchief
nor
collar
;
his
brown
throat
is
bared
in
a
négligé
as
becoming
to
most
men
as
the
à
quatre
épingles
exctitude
of
their
park
get-up
is
unbecoming
.
A
man
in
the
loose
carelessness
of
his
every-day
country
clothes
is
a
man
:
in
the
prim
tightness
of
his
Pall
Mall
pltte
he
is
a
little
,
stiff
,
jointless
figure
out
of
Noah
's
ark.
"
Slops
again
!
"
says
Paterfamilias
,
very
gruffly
.
"
I
never
come
into
this
room
at
any
hour
of
the
day
or
night
without
finding
you
women
drinking
tea
!
Why
on
earth
,
if
you
are
thirsty
,
cannot
you
drink
beer
or
water
,
instead
of
ruining
your
insides
with
all
that
wash
?
"
At
this
courteous
speech
a
silence
falls
on
the
company
.
Sir
Thomas
mostly
brings
silence
with
him
;
he
is
half-
conscious
that
at
his
entry
voices
are
choked
and
laughter
quenched
,
and
it
serves
to
exasperate
him
the
more
.
"
You
sit
with
your
knees
into
the
fire
in
air-tight
rooms
all
day
long
,
"
pursues
he
,
in
his
loud
,
hectoring
voice
,
"
and
destroy
your
digestions
with
gallons
of
hot
tea
,
and
then
you
are
surprised
at
having
tallow
in
your
cheeks
,
instead
of
lilies
and
roses
,
as
your
grandmothers
had
!
"
"
Perhaps
,
"
says
St.
John
,
drily
,
"
the
ladies
deny
the
justice
of
your
conclusions
,
Sir
Thomas
;
perhaps
they
do
not
own
the
soft
impeachment
of
tallowy
cheeks
which
you
so
gallantly
ascribe
to
them
.
"
As
he
speaks
,
his
eyes
involuntarily
rest
on
the
clear
,
rose
brilliance
of
the
young
stranger
's
happy
,
beautiful
child-face
.
"
I
do
n't
mind
being
called
'
tallow
face
,
'
"
says
Esther
,
with
a
low
laugh
—
"
Juliet
was
;
her
father
said
to
her
,
'
Out
,
you
baggage
!
you
tallow
face
!
'
"
"
He
must
have
been
an
ancestor
of
Sir
Thomas
's
in
direct
male
line
,
must
not
he
?
"
says
the
young
man
,
gaily
stooping
over
her
and
whispering
.
Seeing
them
so
familiarly
and
joyously
whisper
together
,
Constance
looks
up
with
an
air
of
astonished
displeasure
,
which
Gerard
perceiving
,
instantly
turns
towards
her
.
"
What
are
you
making
,
Conny
?
"
"
Braces
.
"
"
For
me
,
no
doubt
?
With
your
usual
thoughtfulness
,
you
recollected
that
my
birthday
falls
next
week
,
and
you
were
preparing
a
little
surprise
for
me
.
Well
,
never
mind
;
though
I
have
made
the
discovery
rather
prematurely
,
I
'll
be
as
much
surprised
as
ever
when
the
day
of
presentation
arrives
.
"
"
They
are
not
for
you
,
St.
John
;
they
are
for
the
bazaar
.
"
"
The
bazaar
!
"
he
repeats
,
little
testily
.
"
For
the
last
month
all
your
thoughts
have
tended
bazaarwards
;
you
neither
eat
,
nor
sleep
,
nor
speak
,
nor
hear
,
nor
smell
,
without
some
reference
to
the
bazaar
.
"
"
Bazaar
!
Humbug
!
"
growls
Sir
Thomas
,
rising
and
walking
towards
the
door
.
"
A
parcel
of
idle
women
getting
together
to
sell
trash
and
make
asses
of
themselves
!
"
Then
he
goes
out
,
and
bangs
the
door
.
"
I
would
not
for
worlds
have
given
him
the
satisfaction
of
agreeing
with
him
while
he
was
in
the
room
,
"
says
St.
John
,
insensibly
speaking
in
a
louder
key
now
that
the
autocrat
before
whom
all
voices
sink
has
removed
himself
;
"
but
,
for
once
in
my
life
,
I
must
confess
to
coinciding
in
opinion
with
aged
P.
:
to
be
pestered
with
unfeminine
,
unladylike
importunity
to
buy
things
that
one
would
far
rather
be
without
—
to
be
lavishly
generous
,
and
get
no
credit
for
it
—
to
be
swindled
without
any
hope
of
legal
redress
;
this
is
the
essence
of
a
charitable
bazaar
!
"
"
Dear
me
!
"
says
Esther
,
with
a
crestfallen
sigh
.
"
And
I
had
been
looking
forward
to
it
so
much
!
"
He
sits
down
on
a
low
chair
beside
her
sofa
.
"
Looking
forward
to
a
bazaar
!
"
he
echoes
,
with
a
half-incredulous
smile
.
"
My
dear
Miss
Craven
,
what
a
revelation
as
to
your
past
history
that
one
sentence
is
!
Why
,
I
should
as
soon
think
of
looking
forward
to
a
visit
to
the
dentist
,
or
to
my
mother
's
funeral
!
"
"
No
one
expects
to
enjoy
it
;
it
is
a
necessary
evil
,
"
says
Miss
Blessington
,
with
resignation
.
"
Like
dancing
with
married
men
,
or
going
to
church
?
"
"
Conny
!
Conny
!
"
shouts
Sir
Thomas
from
somewhere
in
the
unseen
distance
.
Conny
rises
,
though
reluctantly
,
and
leaves
the
other
two
téte-à-téte
.
"
Miss
Blessington
is
going
to
have
a
stall
,
"
says
Esther
,
presently
,
for
the
sake
of
saying
something
,
catching
a
little
nervously
at
the
first
remark
that
occurred
to
her
.
"
Yes
.
"
"
And
I
am
to
help
her
.
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
But
I
will
promise
not
to
pester
you
with
unfeminine
,
unladylike
importunity
to
buy
my
wares
.
"
"
I
am
sorry
to
hear
it
.
"
"
Miss
Blessington
has
two
friends
coming
to
stay
with
her
for
it
.
"
"
Yes
.
"
"
Are
you
glad
or
sorry
?
"
"
Glad
is
a
weak
word
to
express
my
feelings
;
I
am
in
ecstasies
!
"
"
They
are
beautiful
,
I
suppose
—
refined
,
witty
,
as
I
always
picture
the
women
of
your
world
?
"
she
says
,
a
little
enviously
.
"
On
the
contrary
,
it
would
be
impossible
to
find
two
more
faded
,
negative
specimens
of
Belgravian
womanhood
:
they
have
not
a
single
angle
in
either
of
their
characters
.
"
"
Do
you
think
that
a
recommendation
?
"
"
I
did
not
say
so
.
"
"
But
you
implied
it
,
by
expressing
such
exaggerated
joy
at
their
coming
.
"
"
So
I
did
—
so
I
do
:
and
if
they
were
to
rise
in
number
from
two
to
fifty
,
like
Falstaff
's
highwaymen
,
I
should
express
greater
joy
still
.
"
"
And
why
?
"
raising
herself
from
her
cushions
to
get
a
straighter
,
truer
look
into
his
bright
,
grave
eyes
.
"
Because
,
"
he
says
,
lowering
his
voice
a
little
,
and
leaning
closelier
over
her
,
"
the
larger
the
party
the
better
chance
there
is
of
undisturbed
téte-à-tétes
between
congenial
spirits
.
Do
you
see
?
"
And
Esther
does
see
,
and
thinking
on
Robert
Brandon
,
is
uneasily
joyful
.
Ere
the
arrival
of
the
looked-for
bazaar
,
Miss
Craven
's
cure
is
complete
.
On
the
day
preceding
the
one
appointed
for
that
philanthropic
festivity
,
she
has
been
walking
in
the
late
evening
about
the
moon-coloured
garden
,
free
from
any
remaining
lameness
,
leaning
on
St.
John
's
arm
.
She
does
not
need
the
slight
stay
,
but
it
pleases
him
to
give
and
her
to
receive
it
.
It
does
not
please
Miss
Blessington
,
however
,
watching
them
from
an
upper
chamber
—
watching
Esther
dabble
her
small
hands
in
the
opal
water
in
the
great
bronze
water-lily
leaf
that
makes
the
basin
of
the
fountain
—
watching
St.
John
,
rapt
and
absorbed
in
her
pretty
foolish
chatter
.
And
yet
their
talk
,
if
she
could
but
hear
it
,
holds
nothing
obnoxiously
fond
or
flirtatious
;
it
might
be
proclaimed
by
the
bellman
in
the
streets
.
"
How
nice
it
is
to
be
no
longer
a
devil
upon
two
sticks
!
"
the
young
girl
is
saying
,
joyfully
;
and
the
man
makes
answer
,
"
You
will
be
up
to
another
gallop
across
the
park
to-morrow
?
"
"
Never
,
never
!
"
she
cries
,
bringing
together
emphatically
her
two
gleaming
,
wet
hands
.
"
You
have
witnessed
my
first
and
last
equestrian
feat
;
with
my
own
free-will
I
will
mount
never
a
horse
again
,
unless
it
is
the
rocking-
horse
at
the
end
of
the
north
gallery
:
it
is
frisky
,
yet
safe
;
gallops
and
plunges
,
yet
stands
still
:
that
is
the
horse
for
me
.
"
He
laughs
,
and
then
they
are
silent
.
A
star
falls
,
hurling
itself
mysteriously
down
the
sky
,
and
into
the
dark
;
two
bats
glide
past
,
dusky
,
noiseless
.
Bats
always
seem
to
me
like
the
ghosts
of
dead
birds
,
that
haunt
the
green
gardens
and
copses
they
used
to
love
.
St.
John
speaks
presently
.
"
One
forms
mistaken
estimates
of
people
's
characters
;
I
should
not
have
imagined
you
a
coward
.
"
"
But
I
am
one
,
physically
and
morally
,
"
she
answers
,
sighing
.
As
the
ladies
retire
to
bed
,
Miss
Blessington
enters
Esther
's
room
—
a
familiarity
which
somewhat
surprises
that
virgin
,
as
it
is
the
first
time
that
it
has
been
accorded
to
her
.
"
I
have
come
to
congratulate
you
!
"
Constance
says
,
civilly
;
"
you
have
made
a
wonderful
recovery
.
"
"
Yes
,
wonderful
!
"
"
You
can
walk
perfectly
well
without
assistance
,
cannot
you
?
"
"
Perfectly
"
(
turning
away
her
head
,
in
the
guilty
consciousness
of
having
,
despite
her
soundness
of
limb
,
not
walked
without
assistance
)
.
"
St.
John
is
very
useful
as
a
walking-stick
,
is
n't
he
?
"
(
playfully
.
)
"
He
thought
it
would
tire
me
less
,
"
replies
the
other
,
flushing
;
"
he
has
been
most
kind
!
"
"
He
always
is
,
"
answers
Miss
Blessington
,
quickly
:
"
it
is
his
nature
;
old
beggarwomen
,
dogs
,
cats
,
dirty
children
in
the
gutter
—
it
is
all
one
to
him
.
"
"
Really
!
"
"
That
universal
geniality
amounts
almost
to
a
weakness
,
though
an
amiable
one
;
it
has
often
been
the
cause
of
citing
hopes
that
,
of
course
,
he
had
neither
the
wish
nor
the
power
to
gratify
.
"
"
What
!
in
old
beggarwomen
,
dogs
,
cats
,
and
dirty
children
in
the
gutter
?
"
says
Esther
,
smiling
merrily
,
yet
with
scorn
.
"
If
I
did
not
take
an
interest
in
you
,
"
continued
Constance
,
leaning
in
a
graceful
artistic
pose
against
the
mantelpiece
,
"
I
should
,
of
course
,
not
take
the
trouble
to
mention
the
subject
;
but
,
as
I
do
,
I
thought
it
the
kindest
thing
I
could
do
to
you
to
set
you
on
your
guard
against
attentions
to
which
you
,
who
do
not
know
him
,
might
,
without
vanity
,
attribute
some
importance
,
but
which
I
,
who
know
him
so
thoroughly
,
know
to
mean
absolutely
nothing
,
beyond
a
sort
of
general
bonhomie
towards
the
whole
of
the
human
race
.
"
"
I
am
deeply
grateful
,
"
answers
the
young
girl
,
with
sarcastic
emphasis
;
"
but
in
my
part
of
the
world
,
girls
are
not
in
the
habit
of
cherishing
vague
hopes
because
a
man
has
the
civility
to
offer
them
his
arm
when
they
are
disabled
by
an
accident
from
walking
by
themselves
.
"
"
Well
,
forewarned
is
forearmed
,
you
know
"
(
nodding
and
smiling
)
;
"
and
from
some
careless
,
slighting
remarks
that
St.
John
let
fall
the
other
day
,
I
thought
I
should
not
be
acting
the
part
of
a
friend
by
you
if
I
did
not
warn
you
against
a
snare
into
which
I
have
seen
others
older
,
and
knowing
more
of
the
world
than
you
do
,
fall
.
Good
night
!
"
"
Stay
!
"
cries
Esther
,
springing
up
,
and
catching
hold
of
her
companion
's
gauzy
dress
in
detention
.
"
It
is
unfair
to
tell
a
person
half
,
and
not
the
whole
.
What
were
the
slighting
remarks
that
Mr.
Gerard
made
à
propos
of
me
?
"
"
Really
,
I
—
I
do
n't
remember
exactly
,
"
replies
Constance
,
with
reluctance
,
half-feigned
,
half-real
;
"
I
did
not
pay
much
attention
at
the
time
;
it
was
an
admission
that
slipped
out
without
my
intending
it
.
"
"
But
now
that
it
has
slipped
out
,
"
cries
the
other
,
authoritatively
,
"
you
must
explain
it
fully
,
please
.
"
"
Well
,
really
—
please
do
n't
look
so
tragic
,
it
can
be
of
so
very
little
consequence
to
you
what
he
said
or
did
not
say
about
you
—
"
"
Infinitesimally
little
!
but
still
I
mean
to
hear
it
.
"
"
Well
"
(
with
rather
an
awkward
laugh
)
,
"
the
situation
is
hardly
worth
such
Mrs.
Siddons
'
airs
:
it
was
only
that
,
when
I
was
remonstrating
with
him
the
other
day
on
his
manner
to
you
,
he
said
,
in
his
off-hand
,
abrupt
way
,
something
to
the
effect
that
when
he
threw
you
over
—
never
for
a
moment
denying
that
sooner
or
later
he
would
do
so
—
you
would
get
over
it
soon
,
or
something
of
that
description
.
I
cannot
recall
the
exact
phrase
.
Good
night
.
"
But
beautiful
Esther
,
standing
there
stricken
,
credulous
,
with
eager
,
angry
eyes
,
forgets
to
make
the
answering
greeting
.
CHAPTER
XIII
.
THE
Bazaar
day
has
arrived
;
so
likewise
have
Constance
's
chosen
friends
,
the
Misses
De
Grey
;
so
likewise
has
their
brother
,
commonly
called
Dick
De
Grey
,
for
no
other
reason
that
we
wot
of
but
that
at
his
baptism
he
received
the
name
of
Charles
.
The
large
open
carriage
which
had
so
impressed
Esther
on
her
first
arrival
at
Brainton
station
,
and
St.
John
's
smart
T.-cart
,
with
his
big
,
black
horse
,
at
whose
head
,
or
rather
at
some
distance
below
whose
nose
,
a
cockaded
infant
stands
trim
and
tidy
,
are
at
the
door
.
"
How
are
we
to
divide
?
"
says
Miss
Blessington
,
coming
out
under
the
portico
and
unfurling
her
white
Honiton
parasol
.
"
How
many
of
us
are
there
?
Adeline
,
Georgina
,
Miss
Craven
,
and
myself
,
four
,
and
you
two
gentlemen
six
.
St.
John
,
will
you
drive
Miss
De
Grey
?
"
"
I
should
be
delighted
,
"
he
answers
,
slowly
and
tardily
,
not
looking
up
from
the
gardenia
which
he
is
fastening
on
his
coat
;
"
but
I
believe
I
am
under
an
old
engagement
to
drive
Miss
Craven
.
You
have
never
been
in
a
T.-cart
,
have
you
?
"
(
looking
at
her
imploringly
,
to
back
him
up
in
the
ready
lie
to
which
,
for
love
of
her
,
he
has
just
given
vent
.
)
"
Never
!
"
she
answers
,
smiling
coldly
.
"
And
now
that
I
see
to
what
a
height
one
has
to
climb
,
and
in
what
close
proximity
one
must
be
to
that
huge
quadruped
's
heels
,
I
am
in
no
hurry
to
make
the
experiment
.
I
release
you
from
your
engagement
,
Mr.
Gerard
,
if
it
ever
existed
;
if
it
is
all
the
same
to
everybody
,
I
prefer
the
—
I
never
can
recollect
the
names
of
carriages
—
barouche
,
sociable
,
landau
,
which
is
it
?
"
He
stares
at
her
for
an
instant
in
blank
astonishment
;
then
,
turning
away
quickly
to
hide
the
mortification
which
he
knows
to
be
legible
on
his
face
,
without
a
word
or
a
groan
helps
the
oldest
,
plainest
,
languidest
of
the
Misses
De
Grey
into
the
T.-cart
and
drives
off
with
her
.
And
Esther
steps
into
the
sociable
,
and
tries
to
feel
triumphant
and
dignified
,
contemplating
,
for
a
dozen
miles
,
Miss
Georgina
De
Grey
's
gold-dusted
hair
and
featureless
face
,
and
submitting
meekly
to
having
the
modest
proportions
of
her
own
toilette
covered
up
and
smothered
in
the
abundance
and
volume
of
her
vis-à-vis
'
laces
and
frillings
.
"
Since
he
means
to
throw
me
over
,
it
is
as
well
to
be
beforehand
with
him
,
"
she
says
to
herself
,
her
eyes
fixed
pensively
on
the
revolving
black
and
yellow
wheel
;
"
in
such
cases
it
is
always
best
to
take
the
initiative
.
It
would
have
been
very
pleasant
,
so
high
up
out
of
the
dust
;
but
what
have
I
to
do
with
aristocratic
vehicles
?
A
gig
,
a
wheelbarrow
,
a
pig-tub
—
such
are
the
only
conveyances
I
am
likely
to
have
experience
of
in
after-life
;
why
then
inoculate
myself
with
a
taste
for
luxuries
that
are
for
my
betters
?
"
And
meanwhile
St.
John
holds
dreary
converse
with
himself
,
while
a
river
of
sound
,
on
which
the
words
Nilsson
,
Romeo
e
Giulietta
,
Schneider
,
drums
,
Holland
House
,
garden
party
float
,
pours
into
his
ear
from
the
direction
of
his
companion
.
"
She
is
honest
,
at
all
events
;
does
not
relish
my
society
,
and
does
not
affect
to
do
so
;
tolerated
me
only
as
long
as
I
was
useful
,
like
a
dog
,
in
fetching
and
carrying
.
Why
am
I
so
unpopular
with
women
?
Is
it
what
I
do
,
what
I
say
,
or
what
I
am
,
that
makes
me
so
?
Is
it
anything
mendable
or
unmendable
?
"
Precisely
seventeen
minutes
past
two
of
the
clock
,
the
Melford
town-hall
clock
,
and
visitors
are
beginning
to
arrive
pretty
thickly
;
three
or
four
barouches
,
seven
or
eight
waggonettes
,
and
nine
or
ten
pony-carriages
,
are
trotting
and
walking
and
crawling
up
the
steep
Melford
street
.
Climbing
the
side
of
a
house
is
child
's
play
to
the
ascent
of
that
most
perpendicular
of
high
streets
.
The
doctor
's
house
,
red
,
and
with
redder
berries
thick
about
its
plate-glass
windows
,
stands
on
your
right
as
you
go
up
the
town
.
The
Doctor
and
the
Doctress
are
issuing
from
the
brass-knockered
hall
door
—
she
in
a
grey
moire
antique
,
that
old
Mrs.
Evans
'
quinsy
paid
for
,
and
gold
bracelets
that
took
their
rise
from
Mr.
Watkin
's
decline
and
fall
.
The
town-hall
stands
in
its
grey
limestone
respectability
in
the
market
place
,
over
against
the
Bell
Inn
;
it
has
an
arched
doorway
,
and
under
this
arch
man
,
woman
,
and
child
go
pacing
in
little
,
smart
tulle
bonnets
and
black
hats
,
with
their
purses
full
of
small
change
,
and
their
hearts
of
that
most
excellent
virtue
—
Christian
charity
.
Round
the
hall
counters
are
ranged
,
and
behind
these
counters
stand
a
phalanx
of
young
women
,
prepared
to
exert
their
little
abilities
in
overreaching
and
circumventing
their
fathers
,
lovers
,
and
brothers
,
to
the
utmost
.
Miss
Blessington
's
stall
is
next-door
neighbour
to
poor
Mrs.
Tomkins
'
,
the
Felton
curate
's
fat
,
childridden
wife
—
as
,
in
some
foreign
city
,
they
tell
us
that
you
may
see
marble
palaces
and
mud
hovels
cheek
by
jowl
;
for
,
as
is
a
mud
hovel
to
a
marble
palace
,
so
is
poor
Mrs.
Tomkins
in
the
Melford
table
of
valuation
to
Miss
Blessington
.
Mrs.
Tomkins
'
main
hope
is
in
her
sister
,
pretty
,
second-rate
,
pert
Miss
Smith
,
who
,
with
a
dog-collar
round
her
waist
,
to
demonstrate
its
tenuity
,
and
two
long
,
uncurled
curls
,
vulgarly
known
as
"
Follow
me
,
lads
!
"
floating
over
her
fat
shoulders
,
has
been
kissing
strawberries
and
rosebuds
,
and
selling
them
at
half-a-crown
apiece
,
to
such
attorneys
'
clerks
and
doctors
'
assistants
of
weak
intellect
as
inhabit
Melford
town
.
On
Miss
Blessington
's
other
side
the
Misses
Denzil
hold
sway
—
daughters
of
a
neighbour
baronet
,
whom
for
twenty
years
past
Sir
Thomas
has
hated
with
the
hate
of
hell
,
because
he
once
beat
him
in
a
contest
for
the
county
.
Belinda
Denzil
,
an
elderly
young
lady
,
tall
and
yellow
and
stately
;
likest
to
a
dandelion
among
the
flowers
of
the
field
;
and
Priscilla
,
a
beady-eyed
,
brisk
brune
,
of
whom
her
admirers
predicate
that
she
could
talk
the
hind
leg
off
a
mule
!
Mr.
Gerard
and
Mr.
De
Grey
are
strolling
about
together
arm
in
arm
;
criticising
the
wares
a
little
and
the
saleswomen
a
good
deal
.
They
are
not
particularly
fond
of
one
another
;
but
no
more
was
Alexander
Selkirk
,
I
dare
say
,
of
his
next-door
neighbour
,
when
he
lived
in
town
,
if
he
ever
did
.
All
the
same
,
if
the
said
next-door
neighbour
had
happened
to
land
on
that
most
irreligious
of
desert
islands
,
where
the
benighted
valleys
and
rocks
never
heard
the
sound
of
the
church-going
bell
,
do
n't
you
suppose
that
he
would
have
rushed
into
his
arms
?
So
in
this
desert
island
of
Melford
,
St.
John
and
Dick
,
the
only
two
respectable
fellows
,
as
they
think
,
among
a
savage
horde
of
squireens
,
march
about
,
hooked
on
together
for
mutual
defence
against
the
barbarians
.
"
You
seem
to
be
driving
a
thriving
trade
,
"
remarks
St.
John
,
who
,
after
his
wanderings
,
has
at
length
come
to
anchor
at
Miss
Blessington
's
stall
,
addressing
Esther
,
but
addressing
her
diffidently
,
as
one
that
,
after
the
severe
and
uncalled-for
snubbing
he
had
this
morning
received
,
was
by
no
means
sure
of
the
reception
his
civilities
might
meet
with
,
while
three
old
women
and
a
parson
squeeze
in
beside
himself
and
his
friend
.
"
Perhaps
you
will
kindly
contribute
towards
making
it
more
thriving
,
by
buying
something
;
"
replies
Miss
Craven
,
coolly
and
drily
.
"
Let
me
recommend
this
cigar
case
to
your
notice
;
it
is
rather
ugly
,
and
very
dear
,
but
one
must
not
mind
trifling
drawbacks
of
that
kind
on
an
occasion
like
the
present
.
"
"
Did
you
make
it
?
"
"
Yes
;
but
please
do
n't
be
so
polite
as
to
buy
it
on
that
account
,
as
,
upon
the
same
grounds
,
you
would
have
to
buy
a
large
proportion
of
the
beautiful
works
of
art
before
you
.
"
So
speaking
,
she
turns
away
from
him
to
another
customer
,
as
if
glad
to
be
rid
of
him
.
"
May
I
ask
what
the
price
of
this
is
?
"
asks
Mr.
De
Grey
,
leaning
with
languid
familiarity
over
Miss
Smith
's
counter
(
everybody
is
familiar
with
Miss
Smith
;
that
is
one
of
her
great
charms
)
,
and
holding
up
a
gorgeously-embroidered
smoking
cap
between
his
finger
and
thumb
.
"
One
pound
eleven
and
sixpence
halfpenny
,
"
replies
the
young
lady
,
with
glib
obsequiousness
,
all
a-twitter
with
excitement
at
being
addressed
by
an
august
being
in
a
cut-away
coat
who
is
known
throughout
the
room
to
be
a
visitor
at
Felton
Hall
.
"
But
,
dear
me
!
"
(
fussing
about
with
unnecessary
empressement
)
"
I
have
got
a
much
more
stylish
one
somewhere
,
if
I
could
but
lay
my
hands
on
it
—
one
that
I
made
myself
,
if
that
is
any
recommendation
!
He
!
he
!
"
(
with
a
giggle
.
)
"
Can
you
doubt
it
?
"
retorts
he
,
sucking
the
top
of
his
cane
,
and
staring
at
her
with
lazy
impertinence
.
Meanwhile
the
room
is
getting
very
crowded
and
stuffy
:
it
is
a
very
small
town-hall
,
and
all
Melford
and
the
southern
half
of
—
—
shire
are
compressed
into
it
—
the
result
being
much
animal
heat
,
some
ill-humour
,
and
infinite
grief
over
rent
garments
;
which
is
reversing
the
case
of
the
ancients
,
who
rent
their
garments
in
sign
of
grief
.
And
in
and
through
and
about
this
warm
throng
,
many
girls
,
emissaries
from
different
stalls
,
go
pushing
and
elbowing
to
enlist
unwilling
subscribers
to
raffles
.
Philanthropy
has
gone
nigh
to
unsexing
them
;
it
has
turned
modest
,
reserved
ladies
into
forward
importunate
Mœnads
.
Foremost
,
most
energetic
,
most
unrebuffable
of
these
emissaries
is
Miss
Priscilla
Denzil
.
She
flies
about
hither
and
thither
,
with
her
white
gown
all
limp
and
tumbled
,
and
her
rough
hair
pushing
its
way
resolutely
from
under
the
blue
ribbons
which
make
a
vain
show
of
confining
it
.
She
is
not
thinking
a
bit
of
how
she
is
looking
;
her
whole
soul
is
intent
on
doing
a
good
stroke
of
business
,
and
none
can
escape
her
.
Sir
Thomas
Gerard
has
just
entered
the
hall
.
Having
ridden
into
Melford
on
magisterial
business
,
the
idea
has
struck
him
of
how
much
better
and
more
cuttingly
he
will
be
able
to
abuse
the
bazaar
at
dinner
this
evening
if
he
has
had
the
advantage
of
seeing
it
.
With
a
dog-whip
in
his
hand
,
and
an
intense
desire
to
lay
it
about
the
shoulders
of
the
company
expressed
in
his
cross
face
,
he
is
pushing
his
way
along
when
attacked
by
the
dauntless
Priscilla
.
"
Oh
!
Sir
Thomas
,
please
let
me
put
you
down
in
the
raffle
for
a
fender-stool
;
so
handsome
!
white
arums
on
a
red
ground
;
do
let
me
,
so
handsome
!
"
"
A
what
,
Miss
Priscilla
?
"
"
A
fender-stool
.
"
"
Humph
!
the
stupidest
things
that
ever
were
invented
,
"
answers
the
baronet
,
snarling
.
"
If
they
had
been
made
expressly
to
trip
people
up
,
and
pitch
them
head-foremost
into
the
fire
,
they
could
not
have
answered
the
purpose
better
.
"
"
Did
they
ever
pitch
you
head-foremost
into
the
fire
?
"
asks
Miss
Prissy
,
insinuatingly
(
"
because
[
aside
]
,
if
so
,
I
wonder
whoever
was
fool
enough
to
pick
you
out
again
!
"
)
"
No
,
and
they
shall
never
have
the
chance
as
long
as
I
can
prevent
them
,
"
replies
the
gracious
elder
,
walking
off
.
For
a
minute
Priscilla
stands
still
,
rebuffed
;
but
recovering
herself
,
speedily
rushes
off
again
,
charges
with
her
fender-stool
an
old
maid
who
has
one
already
,
and
a
poor
little
whity-brown
curate
who
has
no
house
to
put
one
in
,
etc.
,
etc.
"
I
am
afraid
I
have
not
done
them
up
very
neatly
,
"
Esther
is
saying
,
as
she
gives
a
parcel
into
Mr.
De
Grey
's
hands
—
Miss
Smith
having
at
length
frightened
that
gentleman
from
her
side
by
the
rapid
strides
to
intimacy
which
she
was
making
with
him
—
"
My
fingers
toil
in
vain
after
the
nimbleness
with
which
shopmen
whisk
a
parcel
into
shape
and
compactness
before
you
have
time
to
look
round
.
"
Mr.
De
Grey
has
spent
a
small
fortune
in
pincushions
,
kettle-holders
,
dressed
dolls
,
and
many
other
such-like
articles
which
no
young
man
of
fashion
should
be
without
.
"
What
have
I
done
to
be
so
neglected
,
Miss
Craven
?
"
asks
Gerard
,
elevating
his
eyebrows
plaintively
.
"
Am
I
expected
to
put
on
these
slippers
on
the
spot
,
that
I
am
given
no
paper
to
pack
them
up
in
?
"
"
Oh
!
I
beg
your
pardon
;
I
thought
that
Miss
De
Grey
was
attending
to
you
,
"
answers
Esther
,
in
the
most
business-like
,
shop-woman
voice
,
without
smiling
,
or
lifting
her
eyes
.
"
I
thought
no
one
ever
gave
change
at
a
bazaar
,
"
he
says
,
trying
to
make
her
look
up
at
him
,
as
she
puts
a
few
shillings
into
his
hand
.
"
I
do
not
approve
of
such
extortion
,
"
she
answers
,
demurely
;
"
honesty
is
the
best
policy
.
"
"
That
proverb
must
have
been
invented
,
as
Whately
justly
observed
,
by
some
one
who
had
tried
the
other
alternative
.
"
She
smiles
a
little
against
her
will
.
"
I
wish
you
two
would
go
now
,
"
she
says
,
addressing
both
young
men
indifferently
:
"
you
are
only
making
me
idle
.
Look
!
there
are
three
old
maids
ready
to
storm
the
position
,
and
only
deterred
by
you
.
"
"
Rhadamantha
,
Hebe
,
and
Niobe
!
"
says
St.
John
,
laughing
.
"
Please
go
;
I
know
you
are
not
thinking
of
buying
anything
more
.
"
"
Don
Ferdinando
can
do
no
more
than
he
can
do
,
and
at
present
he
is
pretty
well
cleaned
out
.
"
At
Miss
Blessington
's
stall
trade
is
certainly
very
brisk
;
it
is
considered
a
fitting
mark
of
respect
to
the
family
to
buy
their
goods
,
and
so
the
honest
burgesses
of
Melford
make
it
a
point
of
honour
to
buy
Miss
Blessington
's
and
Miss
De
Grey
's
blotting
books
and
babies
'
socks
in
preference
to
anyone
else
's
,
however
superior
in
fabric
and
less
exorbitant
in
price
anybody
else
's
might
be
.
Miss
Blessington
has
just
sunk
upon
a
chair
,
with
an
affectation
of
great
fatigue
,
and
is
saying
languidly
,
"
If
ever
any
one
deserved
the
martyr
's
crown
,
that
person
is
I
;
within
the
last
ten
minutes
I
have
sold
nine
cushions
and
fifteen
pairs
of
muffetees
.
"
"
There
's
plenty
of
cool
tea
and
warm
ices
at
the
other
and
of
:
the
room
,
if
you
think
they
are
likely
to
restore
you
,
"
suggests
Gerard
,
who
is
still
leaning
his
elbow
on
the
counter
,
and
has
not
gone
away
as
commanded
.
"
It
makes
one
quite
hot
,
"
pursues
Miss
Blessington
,
leaning
back
and
fanning
herself
vigorously
,
"
merely
to
look
at
Prissy
Denzil
rushing
about
like
a
Mœnad
,
worrying
every
one
to
put
into
raffles
.
"
"
Providence
made
a
great
mistake
when
it
made
that
girl
a
lady
,
"
says
St.
John
,
following
,
with
a
look
of
half-disgust
in
his
fastidious
eyes
,
Priscilla
's
little
dishevelled
figure
;
"
she
would
have
been
much
happier
haggling
for
halfpence
at
a
huckster
's
stall
.
"
The
afternoon
draws
towards
its
close
;
people
have
come
and
bought
,
and
raffled
and
gone
again
,
carrying
manifold
ill-tied
paper
parcels
with
them
.
The
farmeresses
and
yeomen
's
wives
of
the
Melford
district
have
departed
,
carrying
with
them
,
in
their
mind
's
eye
,
for
imitation
against
next
Sunday
,
the
cut
of
Miss
Blessington
's
skirt
,
and
the
profuse
curls
and
bandeaux
of
Miss
De
Grey
's
intricate
coiffure
.
The
room
is
emptying
,
and
the
day
's
duty
approaching
its
end
.
"
I
say
,
old
fellow
,
"
remarks
Mr.
De
Grey
,
touching
St.
John
on
the
shoulder
as
he
leans
against
the
wall
,
gazing
somewhat
morosely
at
his
own
boots
,
"
do
n't
you
think
we
might
as
well
be
saying
Ta-ta
?
I
do
n't
know
what
you
have
,
but
I
have
had
nearly
enough
of
this
gay
and
festive
scene
.
"
"
All
right
,
"
answers
the
other
,
shaking
off
dull
care
;
"
I
have
put
into
exactly
twenty-five
raffles
,
and
only
got
a
christening
robe
and
a
squirt
,
so
I
think
I
may
be
supposed
to
have
done
my
duty
.
"
At
the
door
there
is
a
little
confusion
—
carriages
driving
up
,
carriages
driving
away
;
a
small
crowd
gathered
to
see
the
smart
ladies
;
two
policemen
.
The
Felton
equipage
and
Mr.
Gerard
's
T.-cart
stand
at
some
little
distance
down
the
street
.
St.
John
offers
Esther
his
arm
,
and
she
,
having
no
decent
excuse
for
declining
,
takes
it
.
As
they
walk
along
,
he
speaks
to
her
hurriedly
and
not
without
temper
.
"
If
you
have
no
special
ground
of
quarrel
against
me
—
and
Heaven
knows
why
you
should
have
—
but
feel
only
that
weariness
to
which
most
women
seem
,
in
my
society
,
to
be
more
or
less
subject
,
be
unselfish
,
and
let
me
drive
you
home
.
I
will
not
speak
,
neither
need
you
,
if
you
will
have
it
so
;
there
are
many
things
more
unsociable
than
absolute
silence
.
"
"
Why
cannot
you
be
satisfied
with
this
morning
's
arrangements
?
"
she
asks
,
demurring
;
the
recollection
of
his
reported
insult
rankling
in
her
mind
.
He
shrugs
his
shoulders
expressively
.
"
If
you
had
had
three
fourths
of
,
'
Le
Follet
'
and
half
the
Morning
Post
poured
into
your
reluctant
ears
,
as
I
have
,
you
would
not
have
asked
that
question
.
"
"
If
you
have
heard
half
the
Morning
Post
,
is
it
not
a
thousand
pities
that
you
should
not
hear
the
other
half
?
"
she
inquires
,
drily
.
They
have
reached
the
T.-cart
,
the
big
black
horse
,
the
baby-tiger
;
in
the
low
,
red
sun
the
new
harness
shines
brightly
.
"
I
almost
wish
you
could
sprain
your
other
ankle
,
"
Gerard
says
,
recovering
his
good
humour
.
"
As
long
as
you
were
lame
,
you
were
much
more
amiable
.
"
Ten
minutes
more
and
the
Melford
steep
street
and
railway
bridge
are
left
behind
them
,
they
are
trotting
with
smooth
briskness
between
the
nutty
,
briary
hedgerows
.
At
first
the
silence
which
Gerard
had
guaranteed
threatens
to
remain
unbroken
;
it
is
infringed
at
last
by
Esther
,
out
of
whose
heart
the
fair
late
breeze
,
the
happy
yellow
stillness
,
and
latly
the
proximity
to
and
solitude
with
the
beloved
one
,
are
smoothing
all
angry
creases
.
(
"
If
he
did
speak
lightly
of
me
,
"
she
thinks
,
sorrowfully
,
"
we
shall
not
have
the
chance
of
many
more
drives
together
;
whether
he
think
ill
or
well
,
highly
or
meanly
,
of
me
,
let
me
be
happy
with
him
while
I
may
!
"
)
"
What
a
pleasant
vehicle
this
would
be
to
make
a
driving
tour
in
!
"
"
A
tour
of
all
the
cathedral
towns
throughout
England
,
as
the
Heir
of
Redclyffe
proposed
spending
his
honeymoon
in
making
!
"
She
laughs
.
"
I
remember
long
ago
the
Saturday
Review
saying
of
some
she-novelist
's
men
,
that
they
were
like
old
governesses
in
trousers
:
it
was
not
a
bad
simile
,
was
it
?
"
Silence
falls
on
them
again
;
broken
this
time
by
Gerard
,
who
,
turning
abruptly
towards
his
companion
,
says
,
"
You
are
not
bored
by
my
society
,
Miss
Craven
?
Unless
you
are
cast
in
a
mould
different
from
the
rest
of
humanity
,
you
must
be
bored
by
the
society
of
the
Misses
De
Grey
.
Why
,
then
,
were
you
so
resolute
this
morning
in
rejecting
the
one
and
accepting
the
other
?
This
is
the
problem
that
has
been
puzzling
me
for
the
last
half
mile
.
"
She
hangs
her
head
like
a
scolded
school-child
.
"
What
was
your
motive
?
"
"
A
prudential
one
,
partly
,
"
she
answers
,
rallying
her
spirits
.
"
I
knew
that
in
after
life
I
should
have
small
experience
of
T.-carts
and
such
rich
man
's
luxuries
,
so
I
thought
it
wiser
not
to
run
the
risk
of
contracting
a
taste
for
them
.
"
"
How
do
you
know
what
the
experience
of
your
after
life
may
be
?
"
"
One
may
argue
from
the
known
to
the
unknown
;
I
can
give
a
pretty
shrewd
guess
.
"
"
And
was
that
your
sole
motive
?
"
"
What
does
it
matter
to
you
whether
it
was
or
not
?
"
"
Nothing
;
except
that
,
to
a
philosophical
mind
like
mine
,
woman
and
her
caprices
are
an
interesting
psychological
study
.
Did
you
ever
hear
of
an
essay
of
Addison
's
entitled
'
Dissection
of
a
Coquette
's
Heart
?
'
"
"
I
am
not
a
coquette
,
"
she
cries
,
indignantly
,
answering
the
indirect
accusation
directly
.
"
I
did
not
say
you
were
.
I
hope
you
are
not
—
I
hope
to
God
you
are
not
!
"
he
answers
,
with
more
vehemence
than
the
occasion
seems
to
demand
.
"
And
yet
,
"
she
says
,
feeling
oppressed
by
the
solemnity
of
his
manner
and
trying
to
speak
lightly
,
"
I
have
heard
it
said
that
no
woman
can
be
thoroughly
attractive
who
is
not
something
of
a
flirt
.
"
"
I
had
rather
that
she
should
be
thoroughly
un
attractive
then
,
"
he
answers
,
shortly
and
grimly
.
"
Men
always
wish
to
have
a
monopoly
of
all
pleasant
sins
,
"
she
retorts
,
a
little
cynically
.
"
If
you
think
that
the
reason
why
I
wish
you
not
to
flirt
is
that
I
want
a
monopoly
of
that
occupation
,
you
are
mistaken
,
"
he
says
,
gravely
;
"
it
is
an
art
that
I
have
not
either
the
will
or
the
power
to
practise
.
"
"
Really
?
"
