THE
FARRINGDONS
Copyright
,
1900
,
By
ELLEN
THORNEYCROFT
FOWLER
.
All
rights
reserved
.
DEDICATION
For
all
such
readers
as
have
chanced
to
be
Either
in
Mershire
or
in
Arcady
,
I
write
this
book
,
that
each
may
smile
,
and
say
,
"
Once
on
a
time
I
also
passed
that
way
.
"
THE
OSIERFIELD
They
herded
not
with
soulless
swine
,
Nor
let
strange
snares
their
path
environ
:
Their
only
pitfall
was
a
mine
—
Their
pigs
were
made
of
iron
.
In
the
middle
of
Sedgehill
,
which
is
in
the
middle
of
Mershire
,
which
is
in
the
middle
of
England
,
there
lies
a
narrow
ridge
of
high
table-land
,
dividing
,
as
by
a
straight
line
,
the
collieries
and
ironworks
of
the
great
coal
district
from
the
green
and
pleasant
scenery
of
the
western
Midlands
.
Along
the
summit
of
this
ridge
runs
the
High
Street
of
the
bleak
little
town
of
Sedgehill
;
so
that
the
houses
on
the
east
side
of
this
street
see
nothing
through
their
back
windows
save
the
huge
slag-mounds
and
blazing
furnaces
and
tall
chimneys
of
the
weird
and
terrible
,
yet
withal
fascinating
,
Black
Country
;
while
the
houses
on
the
west
side
of
the
street
have
sunny
gardens
and
fruitful
orchards
,
sloping
down
toward
a
fertile
land
of
woods
and
streams
and
meadows
,
bounded
in
the
far
distance
by
the
Clee
Hills
and
the
Wrekin
,
and
in
the
farthest
distance
of
all
by
the
blue
Welsh
mountains
.
In
the
dark
valley
lying
to
the
immediate
east
of
Sedgehill
stood
the
Osierfield
Works
,
the
largest
ironworks
in
Mershire
in
the
good
old
days
when
Mershire
made
iron
for
half
the
world
.
The
owners
of
these
works
were
the
Farringdons
,
and
had
been
so
for
several
generations
.
So
it
came
to
pass
that
the
Farringdons
were
the
royal
family
of
Sedgehill
;
and
the
Osierfield
Works
was
the
circle
wherein
the
inhabitants
of
that
place
lived
and
moved
.
It
was
as
natural
for
everybody
born
in
Sedgehill
eventually
to
work
at
the
Osierfield
,
as
it
was
for
him
eventually
to
grow
into
a
man
and
to
take
unto
himself
a
wife
.
The
home
of
the
Farringdons
was
called
the
Willows
,
and
was
separated
by
a
carriage-drive
of
half
a
mile
from
the
town
.
Its
lodge
stood
in
the
High
Street
,
on
the
western
side
;
and
the
drive
wandered
through
a
fine
old
wood
,
and
across
an
undulating
park
,
till
it
stopped
in
front
of
a
large
square
house
built
of
gray
stone
.
It
was
a
handsome
house
inside
,
with
wonderful
oak
staircases
and
Adams
chimneypieces
;
and
there
was
an
air
of
great
stateliness
about
it
,
and
of
very
little
luxury
.
For
the
Farringdons
were
a
hardy
race
,
whose
time
was
taken
up
by
the
making
of
iron
and
the
saving
of
souls
;
and
they
regarded
sofas
and
easy-chairs
in
very
much
the
same
light
as
they
regarded
theatres
and
strong
drink
,
thereby
proving
that
their
spines
were
as
strong
as
their
consciences
were
stern
.
Moreover
,
the
Farringdons
were
of
"
the
people
called
Methodists
"
;
consequently
Methodism
was
the
established
religion
of
Sedgehill
,
possessing
there
that
prestige
which
is
the
inalienable
attribute
of
all
state
churches
.
In
the
eyes
of
Sedgehill
it
was
as
necessary
to
salvation
to
pray
at
the
chapel
as
to
work
at
the
Osierfield
;
and
the
majority
of
the
inhabitants
would
as
soon
have
thought
of
worshipping
at
any
other
sanctuary
as
of
worshipping
at
the
beacon
,
a
pillar
which
still
marks
the
highest
point
of
the
highest
table-land
in
England
.
At
the
time
when
this
story
begins
,
the
joint
ownership
of
the
Osierfield
and
the
Willows
was
vested
in
the
two
Miss
Farringdons
,
the
daughters
and
co-heiresses
of
John
Farringdon
.
John
Farringdon
and
his
brother
William
had
been
partners
,
and
had
arranged
between
themselves
that
William
's
only
child
,
George
,
should
marry
John
's
eldest
daughter
,
Maria
,
and
so
consolidate
the
brothers
'
fortunes
and
their
interest
in
the
works
.
But
the
gods
—
and
George
—
saw
otherwise
.
George
was
a
handsome
,
weak
boy
,
who
objected
equally
to
work
and
to
Methodism
;
and
as
his
father
cared
for
nothing
beyond
those
sources
of
interest
,
and
had
no
patience
for
any
one
who
did
,
the
two
did
not
always
see
eye
to
eye
.
Perhaps
if
Maria
had
been
more
unbending
,
things
might
have
turned
out
differently
;
but
Methodism
in
its
severest
aspects
was
not
more
severe
than
Maria
Farringdon
.
She
was
a
thorough
gentlewoman
,
and
extremely
clever
;
but
tenderness
was
not
counted
among
her
excellencies
.
George
would
have
been
fond
of
almost
any
woman
who
was
pretty
enough
to
be
loved
and
not
clever
enough
to
be
feared
;
but
his
cousin
Maria
was
beyond
even
his
powers
of
falling
in
love
,
although
,
to
do
him
justice
,
these
powers
were
by
no
means
limited
.
The
end
of
it
was
that
George
offended
his
father
past
forgiveness
by
running
away
to
Australia
rather
than
marry
Maria
,
and
there
disappeared
.
Years
afterward
a
rumour
reached
his
people
that
he
had
married
and
died
out
there
,
leaving
a
widow
and
an
only
son
;
but
this
rumour
had
not
been
verified
,
as
by
that
time
his
father
and
uncle
were
dead
,
and
his
cousins
were
reigning
in
his
stead
;
and
it
was
hardly
to
be
expected
that
the
proud
Miss
Farringdon
would
take
much
trouble
concerning
the
woman
whom
her
weak-kneed
kinsman
had
preferred
to
herself
.
William
Farringdon
left
all
his
property
and
his
share
in
the
works
to
his
niece
Maria
,
as
some
reparation
for
the
insult
which
his
disinherited
son
had
offered
to
her
;
John
left
his
large
fortune
between
his
two
daughters
,
as
he
never
had
a
son
;
so
Maria
and
Anne
Farringdon
lived
at
the
Willows
,
and
carried
on
the
Osierfield
with
the
help
of
Richard
Smallwood
,
who
had
been
the
general
manager
of
the
collieries
and
ironworks
belonging
to
the
firm
in
their
father
's
time
,
and
knew
as
much
about
iron
(
and
most
other
things
)
as
he
did
.
Maria
was
a
good
woman
of
business
,
and
she
and
Richard
between
them
made
money
as
fast
as
it
had
been
made
in
the
days
of
William
and
John
Farringdon
.
Anne
,
on
the
contrary
,
was
a
meek
and
gentle
soul
,
who
had
no
power
of
governing
but
a
perfect
genius
for
obedience
,
and
who
was
always
engaged
on
the
Herculean
task
of
squaring
the
sternest
dogmas
with
the
most
indulgent
practices
.
Even
in
the
early
days
of
this
history
the
Miss
Farringdons
were
what
is
called
"
getting
on
"
;
but
the
Willows
was
,
nevertheless
,
not
without
a
youthful
element
in
it
.
Close
upon
a
dozen
years
ago
the
two
sisters
had
adopted
the
orphaned
child
of
a
second
cousin
,
whose
young
widow
had
died
in
giving
birth
to
a
posthumous
daughter
;
and
now
Elisabeth
Farringdon
was
the
light
of
the
good
ladies
'
eyes
,
though
they
would
have
considered
it
harmful
to
her
soul
to
let
her
have
an
inkling
of
this
fact
.
She
was
not
a
pretty
little
girl
,
which
was
a
source
of
much
sorrow
of
heart
to
her
;
and
she
was
a
distinctly
clever
little
girl
,
of
which
she
was
utterly
unconscious
,
it
being
an
integral
part
of
Miss
Farringdon
's
system
of
education
to
imbue
the
young
with
an
overpowering
sense
of
their
own
inferiority
and
unworthiness
.
During
the
first
decade
of
her
existence
Elisabeth
used
frequently
and
earnestly
to
pray
that
her
hair
might
become
golden
and
her
eyes
brown
;
but
as
on
this
score
the
heavens
remained
as
brass
,
and
her
hair
continued
dark
brown
and
her
eyes
blue-gray
,
she
changed
her
tactics
,
and
confined
her
heroine-worship
to
ladies
of
this
particular
style
of
colouring
;
which
showed
that
,
even
at
the
age
of
ten
,
Elisabeth
had
her
full
share
of
adaptability
.
One
day
,
when
walking
with
Miss
Farringdon
to
chapel
,
Elisabeth
exclaimed
,
à
propos
of
nothing
but
her
own
meditations
,
"
Oh
!
Cousin
Maria
,
I
do
wish
I
was
pretty
!
"
Most
people
would
have
been
too
much
afraid
of
the
lady
of
the
Willows
to
express
so
frivolous
a
desire
in
her
august
hearing
;
but
Elisabeth
was
never
afraid
of
anybody
,
and
that
,
perhaps
,
was
one
of
the
reasons
why
her
severe
kinswoman
loved
her
so
well
.
"
That
is
a
vain
wish
,
my
child
.
Favour
is
deceitful
and
beauty
is
vain
;
and
the
Lord
looketh
on
the
heart
and
not
on
the
outward
appearance
.
"
"
But
I
was
n't
thinking
of
the
Lord
,
"
replied
Elisabeth
:
"
I
was
thinking
of
other
people
;
and
they
love
you
much
more
if
you
are
pretty
than
if
you
are
n't
.
"
"
That
is
not
so
,
"
said
Miss
Farringdon
—
and
she
believed
she
was
speaking
the
truth
;
"
if
you
serve
God
and
do
your
duty
to
your
neighbour
,
you
will
find
plenty
of
people
ready
to
love
you
;
and
especially
if
you
carry
yourself
well
and
never
stoop
.
"
Like
many
another
elect
lady
,
Cousin
Maria
regarded
beauty
of
face
as
a
vanity
,
but
beauty
of
figure
as
a
virtue
;
and
to
this
doctrine
Elisabeth
owed
the
fact
that
her
back
always
sloped
in
the
opposite
direction
to
the
backs
of
the
majority
of
people
.
But
it
would
have
surprised
Miss
Farringdon
to
learn
how
little
real
effect
her
strict
Methodist
training
had
upon
Elisabeth
;
fortunately
,
however
,
few
elder
people
ever
do
learn
how
little
effect
their
training
has
upon
the
young
committed
to
their
charge
;
if
it
were
so
,
life
would
be
too
hard
for
the
generation
that
has
passed
the
hill-top
.
Elisabeth
's
was
one
of
those
happy
,
pantheistic
natures
that
possess
the
gift
of
finding
God
everywhere
and
in
everything
.
She
early
caught
the
Methodist
habit
of
self-analysis
and
introspection
,
but
in
her
it
did
not
develop
—
as
it
does
in
more
naturally
religious
souls
—
into
an
almost
morbid
conscientiousness
and
self-depreciation
;
she
merely
found
an
artistic
and
intellectual
pleasure
in
taking
the
machinery
of
her
soul
to
pieces
and
seeing
how
it
worked
.
In
those
days
—
and
,
in
fact
,
in
all
succeeding
ones
—
Elisabeth
lived
in
a
world
of
imagination
.
There
was
not
a
nook
in
the
garden
of
the
Willows
which
was
not
peopled
by
creatures
of
her
fancy
.
At
this
particular
time
she
was
greatly
fascinated
by
the
subject
of
heathen
mythology
,
as
set
forth
in
Mangnall
's
Questions
,
and
had
devoted
herself
to
the
service
of
Pallas
Athene
,
having
learned
that
that
goddess
was
(
like
herself
)
not
surpassingly
beautiful
,
and
was
,
moreover
,
handicapped
by
the
possession
of
gray
eyes
.
Miss
Farringdon
would
have
been
horrified
had
she
known
that
a
portion
of
the
wood
was
set
apart
by
Elisabeth
as
"
Athene
's
Grove
,
"
and
that
the
contents
of
the
waste-paper
basket
were
daily
begged
from
the
servants
by
the
devotee
,
and
offered
up
,
by
the
aid
of
real
matches
,
on
the
shrine
of
the
goddess
.
"
Have
you
noticed
,
sister
,
"
Miss
Anne
remarked
on
one
occasion
,
"
how
much
more
thoughtful
dear
Elisabeth
is
growing
?
"
Miss
Anne
's
life
was
one
long
advertisement
of
other
people
's
virtues
.
"
She
used
to
be
somewhat
careless
in
letting
the
fires
go
out
,
and
so
giving
the
servants
the
trouble
to
relight
them
;
but
now
she
is
always
going
round
the
rooms
to
see
if
more
coal
is
required
,
without
my
ever
having
to
remind
her
.
"
"
It
is
so
,
and
I
rejoice
.
Carelessness
in
domestic
matters
is
a
grave
fault
in
a
young
girl
,
and
I
am
pleased
that
Elisabeth
has
outgrown
her
habit
of
wool-gathering
,
and
of
letting
the
fire
go
out
under
her
very
nose
without
noticing
it
.
It
is
a
source
of
thanksgiving
to
me
that
the
child
is
so
much
more
thoughtful
and
considerate
in
this
matter
than
she
used
to
be
.
"
Miss
Farringdon
's
thanksgiving
,
however
,
would
have
been
less
fervent
had
she
known
that
,
for
the
time
being
,
her
protégée
had
assumed
the
rôle
of
a
Vestal
virgin
,
and
that
Elisabeth
's
care
of
the
fires
that
winter
was
not
fulfilment
of
a
duty
but
part
of
a
game
.
This
,
however
,
was
Elisabeth
's
way
;
she
frequently
received
credit
for
performing
a
duty
when
she
was
really
only
taking
part
in
a
performance
;
which
merely
meant
that
she
possessed
the
artist
's
power
of
looking
at
duty
through
the
haze
of
idealism
,
and
of
seeing
that
,
although
it
was
good
,
it
might
also
be
made
picturesque
.
Elisabeth
was
well
versed
in
The
Pilgrim
's
Progress
and
The
Fairchild
Family
.
The
spiritual
vicissitudes
of
Lucy
,
Emily
,
and
Henry
Fairchild
were
to
her
a
drama
of
never-failing
interest
;
while
each
besetment
of
the
Crosbie
household
—
which
was
as
carefully
preserved
for
its
particular
owner
as
if
sin
were
a
species
of
ground
game
—
never
failed
to
thrill
her
with
enjoyable
disgust
.
She
knew
a
great
portion
of
the
Methodist
hymn-book
by
heart
,
and
pondered
long
over
the
interesting
preface
to
that
work
,
wondering
much
what
"
doggerel
"
and
"
botches
"
could
be
—
she
inclined
to
the
supposition
that
the
former
were
animals
and
the
latter
were
diseases
;
but
even
her
vivid
imagination
failed
to
form
a
satisfactory
representation
of
such
queer
kittle-cattle
as
"
feeble
expletives
.
"
Every
Sunday
she
gloated
over
the
frontispiece
of
John
Wesley
,
in
his
gown
and
bands
and
white
ringlets
,
feeling
that
,
though
poor
as
a
picture
,
it
was
very
superior
to
the
letterpress
;
the
worst
illustrations
being
better
than
the
best
poetry
,
as
everybody
under
thirteen
must
know
.
But
Elisabeth
's
library
was
not
confined
to
the
volumes
above
mentioned
;
she
regularly
perused
with
interest
two
little
periodicals
,
called
respectively
Early
Days
and
The
Juvenile
Offering
.
The
former
treated
of
youthful
saints
at
home
;
and
its
white
paper
cover
was
adorned
by
the
picture
of
a
shepherd
,
comfortably
if
peculiarly
attired
in
a
frock
coat
and
top
hat
—
presumably
to
portray
that
it
was
Sunday
.
The
latter
magazine
devoted
itself
to
histories
dealing
with
youthful
saints
abroad
;
and
its
cover
was
decorated
with
a
representation
of
young
black
persons
apparently
engaged
in
some
religious
exercise
.
In
this
picture
the
frock
coats
and
top
hats
were
conspicuous
by
their
absence
.
There
were
two
pictures
in
the
breakfast-room
at
the
Willows
which
occupied
an
important
place
in
Elisabeth
's
childish
imaginings
.
The
first
hung
over
the
mantelpiece
,
and
was
called
The
Centenary
Meeting
.
It
represented
a
chapel
full
of
men
in
suffocating
cravats
,
turning
their
backs
upon
the
platform
and
looking
at
the
public
instead
—
a
more
effective
if
less
realistic
attitude
than
the
ordinary
one
of
sitting
the
right
way
about
;
because
—
as
Elisabeth
reasoned
,
and
reasoned
rightly
—
if
these
gentlemen
had
not
happened
to
be
behind
before
when
their
portraits
were
taken
,
nobody
would
ever
have
known
whose
portraits
they
were
.
It
was
a
source
of
great
family
pride
to
her
that
her
grandfather
appeared
in
this
galaxy
of
Methodist
worth
;
but
the
hero
of
the
piece
,
in
her
eyes
,
was
one
gentleman
who
had
managed
to
swarm
up
a
pillar
and
there
screw
himself
"
to
the
sticking-place
"
;
and
how
he
had
done
it
Elisabeth
never
could
conceive
.
The
second
picture
hung
over
the
door
,
and
was
a
counterfeit
presentment
of
John
Wesley
's
escape
from
the
burning
rectory
at
Epworth
.
In
those
days
Elisabeth
was
so
small
and
the
picture
hung
so
high
that
she
could
not
see
it
very
distinctly
;
but
it
appeared
to
her
that
the
boy
Wesley
(
whom
she
confused
in
her
own
mind
with
the
infant
Samuel
)
was
flying
out
of
an
attic
window
by
means
of
flowing
white
wings
,
while
a
horse
was
suspended
in
mid-air
ready
to
carry
him
straight
to
heaven
.
Every
Sunday
she
accompanied
her
cousins
to
East
Lane
Chapel
,
at
the
other
end
of
Sedgehill
,
and
here
she
saw
strange
visions
and
dreamed
strange
dreams
.
The
distinguishing
feature
of
this
sanctuary
was
a
sort
of
reredos
in
oils
,
in
memory
of
a
dead
and
gone
Farringdon
,
which
depicted
a
gigantic
urn
,
surrounded
by
a
forest
of
cypress
,
through
the
shades
whereof
flitted
"
young-eyed
cherubims
"
with
dirty
wings
and
bilious
complexions
,
these
last
mentioned
blemishes
being
,
it
is
but
fair
to
add
,
the
fault
of
the
atmosphere
and
not
of
the
artist
.
For
years
Elisabeth
firmly
believed
that
this
altar-piece
was
a
trustworthy
representation
of
heaven
;
and
she
felt
,
therefore
,
a
pleasant
,
proprietary
interest
in
it
,
as
the
view
of
an
estate
to
which
she
would
one
day
succeed
.
There
was
also
a
stained-glass
window
in
East
Lane
Chapel
,
given
by
the
widow
of
a
leading
official
.
The
baptismal
name
of
the
deceased
had
been
Jacob
;
and
the
window
showed
forth
Jacob
's
Dream
,
as
a
delicate
compliment
to
the
departed
.
Elisabeth
delighted
in
this
window
,
it
was
so
realistic
.
The
patriarch
lay
asleep
,
with
his
head
on
a
little
white
tombstone
at
the
foot
of
a
solid
oak
staircase
,
which
was
covered
with
a
red
carpet
neatly
fastened
down
by
brass
rods
;
while
up
and
down
this
staircase
strolled
fair-haired
angels
in
long
white
nightgowns
and
purple
wings
.
Not
of
course
then
,
but
in
after
years
,
Elisabeth
learned
to
understand
that
this
window
was
a
type
and
an
explanation
of
the
power
of
early
Methodism
,
the
strength
whereof
lay
in
its
marvellous
capacity
of
adapting
religion
to
the
needs
and
use
of
everyday
life
,
and
of
bringing
the
infinite
into
the
region
of
the
homely
and
commonplace
.
We
,
with
our
added
culture
and
our
maturer
artistic
perceptions
,
may
smile
at
a
Jacob
's
Ladder
formed
according
to
the
domestic
architecture
of
the
first
half
of
the
nineteenth
century
;
but
the
people
to
whom
the
other
world
was
so
near
and
so
real
that
they
perceived
nothing
incongruous
in
an
ordinary
stair-carpet
which
was
being
trodden
by
the
feet
of
angels
,
had
grasped
a
truth
which
on
one
side
touched
the
divine
,
even
though
on
the
other
it
came
perilously
near
to
the
grotesque
.
And
He
,
Who
taught
them
as
by
parables
,
never
misunderstood
—
as
did
certain
of
His
followers
—
their
reverent
irreverence
;
but
,
understanding
it
,
saw
that
it
was
good
.
The
great
day
in
East
Lane
Chapel
was
the
Sunday
School
anniversary
;
and
in
Elisabeth
's
childish
eyes
this
was
a
feast
compared
with
which
Christmas
and
Easter
sank
to
the
level
of
black-letter
days
.
On
these
festivals
the
Sunday
School
scholars
sat
all
together
in
those
parts
of
the
gallery
adjacent
to
the
organ
,
the
girls
wearing
white
frocks
and
blue
neckerchiefs
,
and
the
boys
black
suits
and
blue
ties
.
The
pews
were
strewn
with
white
hymn-sheets
,
which
lay
all
over
the
chapel
like
snow
in
Salmon
,
and
which
contained
special
spiritual
songs
more
stirring
in
their
character
than
the
contents
of
the
Hymn-book
;
these
hymns
the
Sunday
School
children
sang
by
themselves
,
while
the
congregation
sat
swaying
to
and
fro
to
the
tune
.
And
Elisabeth
's
soul
was
uplifted
within
her
as
she
listened
to
the
children
's
voices
;
for
she
felt
that
mystical
hush
which
—
let
us
hope
—
comes
to
us
all
at
some
time
or
other
,
when
we
hide
our
faces
in
our
mantles
and
feel
that
a
Presence
is
passing
by
,
and
is
passing
by
so
near
to
us
that
we
have
only
to
stretch
out
our
hands
in
order
to
touch
it
.
At
sundry
times
and
in
divers
manners
does
that
wonderful
sense
of
a
Personal
Touch
come
to
men
and
to
women
.
It
may
be
in
a
wayside
Bethel
,
it
may
be
in
one
of
the
fairest
fanes
of
Christendom
,
or
it
may
be
not
in
any
temple
made
with
hands
:
according
to
the
separate
natures
which
God
has
given
to
us
,
so
must
we
choose
the
separate
ways
that
will
lead
us
to
Him
;
and
as
long
as
there
are
different
natures
there
must
be
various
ways
.
Then
let
each
of
us
take
the
path
at
the
end
whereof
we
see
Him
standing
,
always
remembering
that
wayfaring
men
,
though
fools
,
shall
not
err
therein
;
and
never
forgetting
that
—
come
whence
and
how
they
may
—
whosoever
shall
touch
but
the
hem
of
His
garment
shall
be
made
perfectly
whole
.
CHRISTOPHER
And
when
perchance
of
all
perfection
You
've
seen
an
end
,
Your
thoughts
may
turn
in
my
direction
To
find
a
friend
.
There
are
two
things
which
are
absolutely
necessary
to
the
well-being
of
the
normal
feminine
mind
—
namely
,
one
romantic
attachment
and
one
comfortable
friendship
.
Elisabeth
was
perfectly
normal
and
extremely
feminine
;
and
consequently
she
provided
herself
early
with
these
two
aids
to
happiness
.
In
those
days
the
object
of
her
romantic
attachment
was
her
cousin
Anne
.
Anne
Farringdon
was
one
of
those
graceful
,
elegant
women
who
appear
so
much
deeper
than
they
really
are
.
All
her
life
she
had
been
inspiring
devotion
which
she
was
utterly
unable
to
fathom
;
and
this
was
still
the
case
with
regard
to
herself
and
her
adoring
little
worshipper
.
People
always
wondered
why
Anne
Farringdon
had
never
married
;
and
explained
the
mystery
to
their
own
satisfaction
by
conjecturing
that
she
had
had
a
disappointment
in
her
youth
,
and
had
been
incapable
of
loving
twice
.
It
never
struck
them
—
which
was
actually
the
case
—
that
she
had
been
incapable
of
loving
once
;
and
that
her
single-blessedness
was
due
to
no
unforgotten
love-story
,
but
to
the
unromantic
fact
that
among
her
score
of
lovers
she
had
never
found
a
man
for
whom
she
seriously
cared
.
In
a
delicate
and
ladylike
fashion
she
had
flirted
outrageously
in
her
time
;
but
she
had
always
broken
hearts
so
gently
,
and
put
away
the
pieces
so
daintily
,
that
the
owners
of
these
hearts
had
never
dreamed
of
resenting
the
damage
she
had
wrought
.
She
had
refused
them
with
such
a
world
of
pathos
in
her
beautiful
eyes
—
the
Farringdon
gray-blue
eyes
,
with
thick
black
brows
and
long
black
lashes
—
that
the
poor
souls
had
never
doubted
her
sympathy
and
comprehension
;
nor
had
they
the
slightest
idea
that
she
was
totally
ignorant
of
the
depth
of
the
love
which
she
had
inspired
,
or
the
bitterness
of
the
pain
which
she
had
caused
.
All
the
romance
of
Elisabeth
's
nature
—
and
there
was
a
great
deal
of
it
—
was
lavished
upon
Anne
Farringdon
.
If
Anne
smiled
,
Elisabeth
's
sky
was
cloudless
;
if
Anne
sighed
,
Elisabeth
's
sky
grew
gray
.
The
mere
sound
of
Anne
's
voice
vibrated
through
the
child
's
whole
being
;
and
every
little
trifle
connected
with
her
cousin
became
a
sacred
relic
in
Elisabeth
's
eyes
.
Like
every
Methodist
child
,
Elisabeth
was
well
versed
in
her
Bible
;
but
,
unlike
most
Methodist
children
,
she
regarded
it
more
as
a
poetical
than
an
ethical
work
.
When
she
was
only
twelve
,
the
sixty-eighth
Psalm
thrilled
her
as
with
the
sound
of
a
trumpet
;
and
she
was
completely
carried
away
by
the
glorious
imagery
of
the
Book
of
Isaiah
,
even
when
she
did
not
in
the
least
understand
its
meaning
.
But
her
favourite
book
was
the
Book
of
Ruth
;
for
was
not
Ruth
's
devotion
to
Naomi
the
exact
counterpart
of
hers
to
Cousin
Anne
?
And
she
used
to
make
up
long
stories
in
her
own
mind
about
how
Cousin
Anne
should
,
by
some
means
,
lose
all
her
friends
and
all
her
money
,
and
be
driven
out
of
Sedgehill
and
away
from
the
Osierfield
Works
;
and
then
how
Elisabeth
would
say
,
"
Entreat
me
not
to
leave
thee
,
"
and
would
follow
Cousin
Anne
to
the
ends
of
the
earth
.
People
sometimes
smile
at
the
adoration
of
a
young
girl
for
a
woman
,
and
there
is
no
doubt
but
that
the
feeling
savours
slightly
of
school-days
and
bread-and-butter
;
but
there
is
also
no
doubt
that
a
girl
who
has
once
felt
it
has
learned
what
real
love
is
,
and
that
is
no
small
item
in
the
lesson-book
of
life
.
But
Elisabeth
had
her
comfortable
friendship
as
well
as
her
romantic
attachment
;
and
the
partner
in
that
friendship
was
Christopher
Thornley
,
the
nephew
of
Richard
Smallwood
.
In
the
days
of
his
youth
,
when
his
father
was
still
manager
of
the
Osierfield
Works
,
Richard
had
a
very
pretty
sister
;
but
as
Emily
Smallwood
was
pretty
,
so
was
she
also
vain
,
and
the
strict
atmosphere
of
her
home
life
did
not
recommend
itself
to
her
taste
.
After
many
quarrels
with
her
stern
old
father
(
her
mother
having
died
when
she
was
a
baby
)
,
Emily
left
home
,
and
took
a
situation
in
London
as
governess
,
in
the
house
of
some
wealthy
people
with
no
pretensions
to
religion
.
For
this
her
father
never
forgave
her
;
he
called
it
"
consorting
with
children
of
Belial
.
"
In
time
she
wrote
to
tell
Richard
that
she
was
going
to
be
married
,
and
that
she
wished
to
cut
off
entirely
all
communication
with
her
old
home
.
After
that
,
Richard
lost
sight
of
her
for
many
years
;
but
some
time
after
his
father
's
death
he
received
a
letter
from
Emily
,
begging
him
to
come
to
her
at
once
,
as
she
was
dying
.
He
complied
with
her
request
,
and
found
his
once
beautiful
sister
in
great
poverty
in
a
London
lodging-house
.
She
told
him
that
she
had
endured
great
sorrow
,
having
lost
her
husband
and
her
five
eldest
children
.
Her
husband
had
never
been
unkind
to
her
,
she
said
,
but
he
was
one
of
the
men
who
lack
the
power
either
to
make
or
to
keep
money
;
and
when
he
found
he
was
foredoomed
to
failure
in
everything
to
which
he
turned
his
hand
,
he
had
not
the
spirit
to
continue
the
fight
against
Fate
,
but
turned
his
face
to
the
wall
and
died
.
She
had
still
one
child
left
,
a
fair-haired
boy
of
about
two
years
old
,
called
Christopher
;
to
her
brother
's
care
she
confided
this
boy
,
and
then
she
also
turned
her
face
to
the
wall
and
died
.
This
happened
a
year
or
so
before
the
Miss
Farringdons
adopted
Elisabeth
;
so
that
when
that
young
lady
appeared
upon
the
scene
,
and
subsequently
grew
up
sufficiently
to
require
a
playfellow
,
she
found
Christopher
Thornley
ready
to
hand
.
He
lived
with
his
bachelor
uncle
in
a
square
red
house
on
the
east
side
of
Sedgehill
High
Street
,
exactly
opposite
to
the
Farringdons
'
lodge
.
It
was
one
of
those
big
,
bald
houses
with
unblinking
windows
,
that
stare
at
you
as
if
they
had
not
any
eyebrows
or
eyelashes
;
and
there
was
not
even
a
strip
of
greenery
between
it
and
the
High
Street
.
So
to
prevent
the
passers-by
from
looking
in
and
the
occupants
from
looking
out
,
the
lower
parts
of
the
front
windows
were
covered
with
a
sort
of
black
crape
mask
,
which
put
even
the
sunbeams
into
half-mourning
.
Unlike
Elisabeth
,
Christopher
had
a
passion
for
righteousness
and
for
honour
,
but
no
power
of
artistic
perception
.
His
standard
was
whether
things
were
right
or
wrong
,
honourable
or
dishonourable
;
hers
was
whether
they
were
beautiful
or
ugly
,
pleasant
or
unpleasant
.
Consequently
the
two
moved
along
parallel
lines
;
and
she
moved
a
great
deal
more
quickly
than
he
did
.
Christopher
had
deep
convictions
,
but
was
very
shy
of
expressing
them
;
Elisabeth
's
convictions
were
not
particularly
deep
,
but
such
as
they
were
,
all
the
world
was
welcome
to
them
as
far
as
she
was
concerned
.
As
the
children
grew
older
,
one
thing
used
much
to
puzzle
and
perplex
Christopher
.
Elisabeth
did
not
seem
to
care
about
being
good
nearly
as
much
as
he
cared
:
he
was
always
trying
to
do
right
,
and
she
only
tried
when
she
thought
about
it
;
nevertheless
,
when
she
did
give
her
attention
to
the
matter
,
she
had
much
more
comforting
and
beautiful
thoughts
than
he
had
,
which
appeared
rather
hard
.
He
was
not
yet
old
enough
to
know
that
this
difference
between
them
arose
from
no
unequal
division
of
divine
favour
,
but
was
simply
and
solely
a
question
of
temperament
.
But
though
he
did
not
understand
,
he
did
not
complain
;
for
he
had
been
brought
up
under
the
shadow
of
the
Osierfield
Works
,
and
in
the
fear
and
love
of
the
Farringdons
;
and
Elisabeth
,
whatever
her
shortcomings
,
was
a
princess
of
the
blood
.
Christopher
was
a
day-boy
at
the
Grammar
School
at
Silverhampton
,
a
fine
old
town
some
three
miles
to
the
north
of
Sedgehill
;
and
there
and
back
he
walked
every
day
,
wet
or
fine
,
and
there
he
learned
to
be
a
scholar
and
a
gentleman
,
and
sundry
other
important
things
.
"
Do
you
hear
that
noise
?
"
said
Elisabeth
,
one
afternoon
in
the
holidays
,
when
she
was
twelve
and
Christopher
fifteen
;
"
that
's
Mrs.
Bateson
's
pig
being
killed
.
"
"
Hear
it
?
—
rather
,
"
replied
Christopher
,
standing
still
in
the
wood
to
listen
.
"
Let
's
go
and
see
it
,
"
Elisabeth
suggested
.
Christopher
looked
shocked
.
"
Well
,
you
are
a
horrid
girl
!
Nothing
would
induce
me
to
go
,
or
to
let
you
go
either
;
but
I
'm
surprised
at
your
being
so
horrid
as
to
wish
for
such
a
thing
.
"
"
It
is
n't
really
horridness
,
"
Elisabeth
explained
meekly
;
"
it
is
interest
.
I
'm
so
frightfully
interested
in
things
;
and
I
want
to
see
everything
,
just
to
know
what
it
looks
like
.
"
"
Well
,
I
call
it
horrid
.
And
,
what
's
more
,
if
you
saw
it
,
it
would
make
you
feel
ill.
"
"
No
;
it
would
n't
.
"
"
Then
it
ought
to
,
"
said
Christopher
,
who
,
with
true
masculine
dulness
of
perception
,
confounded
weakness
of
nerve
with
tenderness
of
heart
.
Elisabeth
sighed
.
"
Nothing
makes
me
feel
ill
,
"
she
replied
apologetically
;
"
not
even
an
accident
or
an
after-meeting
.
"
Christopher
could
not
help
indulging
in
a
certain
amount
of
envious
admiration
for
an
organism
that
could
pass
unmoved
through
such
physical
and
spiritual
crises
as
these
;
but
he
was
not
going
to
let
Elisabeth
see
that
he
admired
her
.
He
considered
it
"
unmanly
"
to
admire
girls
.
"
Well
,
you
are
a
rum
little
cove
!
"
he
said
.
"
Of
course
,
I
do
n't
want
to
go
if
you
think
it
would
be
horrid
of
me
;
but
I
thought
we
might
pretend
it
was
the
execution
of
Mary
Queen
of
Scots
,
and
find
it
most
awfully
exciting
.
"
"
How
you
do
go
on
about
Mary
Queen
of
Scots
!
Not
long
ago
you
were
always
bothering
about
heathen
goddesses
,
and
now
you
have
no
thought
for
anything
but
Mary
.
"
"
Oh
!
but
I
'm
still
immensely
interested
in
goddesses
,
Chris
;
and
I
do
wish
,
when
you
are
doing
Latin
and
Greek
at
school
,
you
'd
find
out
what
colour
Pallas
Athene
's
hair
was
.
Could
n't
you
?
"
"
No
;
I
could
n't
.
"
"
But
you
might
ask
one
of
the
masters
.
They
'd
be
sure
to
know
.
"
Christopher
laughed
the
laugh
of
the
scornful
.
"
I
say
,
you
are
a
duffer
to
suppose
that
clever
men
like
schoolmasters
bother
their
heads
about
such
rot
as
the
colour
of
a
woman
's
hair
.
"
"
Of
course
,
I
know
they
would
n't
about
a
woman
's
,
"
Elisabeth
hastened
to
justify
herself
;
"
but
I
thought
perhaps
they
might
about
a
goddess
's
.
"
"
It
is
the
same
thing
.
You
've
no
idea
what
tremendously
clever
chaps
schoolmasters
are
—
much
too
clever
to
take
any
interest
in
girls
'
and
women
's
concerns
.
Besides
,
they
are
too
old
for
that
,
too
—
they
are
generally
quite
thirty
.
"
Elisabeth
was
silent
for
a
moment
;
and
Christopher
whistled
as
he
looked
across
the
green
valley
to
the
sunset
,
without
in
the
least
knowing
how
beautiful
it
was
.
But
Elisabeth
knew
,
for
she
possessed
an
innate
knowledge
of
many
things
which
he
would
have
to
learn
by
experience
.
But
even
she
did
not
yet
understand
that
because
the
sunset
was
beautiful
she
felt
a
sudden
hunger
and
thirst
after
righteousness
.
"
Chris
,
do
you
think
it
is
wicked
of
people
to
fall
in
love
?
"
she
asked
suddenly
.
"
Not
exactly
wicked
;
more
silly
,
I
should
say
,
"
replied
Chris
generously
.
"
Because
if
it
is
wicked
,
I
shall
give
up
reading
tales
about
it
.
"
This
was
a
tremendous
and
unnatural
sacrifice
to
principle
on
the
part
of
Elisabeth
.
Christopher
turned
upon
her
sharply
.
"
You
do
n't
read
tales
that
Miss
Farringdon
has
n't
said
you
may
read
,
do
you
?
"
"
Yes
;
lots
.
But
I
never
read
tales
that
she
has
said
I
must
n't
read
.
"
"
You
ought
n't
to
read
any
tale
till
you
have
asked
her
first
if
you
may
.
"
Elisabeth
's
face
fell
.
"
I
never
thought
of
doing
such
a
thing
as
asking
her
first
.
Oh
!
Chris
,
you
do
n't
really
think
I
ought
to
,
do
you
?
Because
she
'd
be
sure
to
say
no.
"
"
That
is
exactly
why
you
ought
to
ask
.
"
Christopher
's
sense
of
honour
was
one
of
his
strong
points
.
Then
Elisabeth
lost
her
temper
.
"
That
is
you
all
over
!
You
are
the
most
tiresome
boy
to
have
anything
to
do
with
!
You
are
always
bothering
about
things
being
wrong
,
till
you
make
them
wrong
.
Now
I
hardly
ever
think
of
it
;
but
I
ca
n't
go
on
doing
things
after
you
've
said
they
are
wrong
,
because
that
would
be
wrong
of
me
,
do
n't
you
see
?
And
yet
it
was
n't
a
bit
wrong
of
me
before
I
knew
.
I
hate
you
!
"
"
I
say
,
Betty
,
I
'm
awfully
sorry
lo
have
riled
you
;
but
you
asked
me
.
"
"
I
did
n't
ask
you
whether
I
need
ask
Cousin
Maria
,
stupid
!
You
know
I
did
n't
.
I
asked
you
whether
it
was
wrong
to
fall
in
love
,
and
then
you
went
and
dragged
Cousin
Maria
in
.
I
wish
I
'd
never
asked
you
anything
;
I
wish
I
'd
never
spoken
to
you
;
I
wish
I
'd
got
somebody
else
to
play
with
,
and
then
I
'd
never
speak
to
you
again
as
long
as
I
live
.
"
Of
course
it
was
unwise
of
Christopher
to
condemn
a
weakness
to
which
Elisabeth
was
prone
,
and
to
condone
one
to
which
she
was
not
;
but
no
man
has
learned
wisdom
at
fifteen
,
and
but
few
at
fifty
.
"
You
are
the
most
disagreeable
boy
I
have
ever
met
,
and
I
wish
I
could
think
of
something
to
do
to
annoy
you
.
I
know
what
I
'll
do
;
I
'll
go
by
myself
and
see
Mrs.
Bateson
's
pig
,
just
to
show
you
how
I
hate
you
.
"
And
Elisabeth
flew
off
in
the
direction
of
Mrs.
Bateson
's
cottage
,
with
the
truly
feminine
intention
of
punishing
the
male
being
who
had
dared
to
disapprove
of
her
,
by
making
him
disapprove
of
her
still
more
.
Her
programme
,
however
,
was
frustrated
;
for
Mrs.
Bateson
herself
intervened
between
Elisabeth
and
her
unholy
desires
,
and
entertained
the
latter
with
a
plate
of
delicious
bread-and-dripping
instead
.
Finally
,
that
young
lady
returned
to
her
home
in
a
more
magnanimous
frame
of
mind
;
and
fell
asleep
that
night
wondering
if
the
whole
male
sex
were
as
stupid
as
the
particular
specimen
with
which
she
had
to
do
—
a
problem
which
has
puzzled
older
female
brains
than
hers
.
But
poor
Christopher
was
very
unhappy
.
It
was
agony
to
him
when
his
conscience
pulled
him
one
way
and
Elisabeth
pulled
him
the
other
;
and
yet
this
form
of
torture
was
constantly
occurring
to
him
.
He
could
not
bear
to
do
what
he
knew
was
wrong
,
and
he
could
not
bear
to
vex
Elisabeth
;
yet
Elisabeth
's
wishes
and
his
own
ideas
of
right
were
by
no
means
always
synonymous
.
His
only
comfort
was
the
knowledge
that
his
sovereign
's
anger
was
,
as
a
rule
,
short-lived
,
and
that
he
himself
was
indispensable
to
that
sovereign
's
happiness
.
This
was
true
;
but
he
did
not
then
realize
that
it
was
in
his
office
as
admiring
and
sympathizing
audience
,
and
not
in
his
person
as
Christopher
Thornley
,
that
he
was
necessary
to
Elisabeth
.
A
fuller
revelation
was
vouchsafed
to
him
later
.
The
next
morning
Elisabeth
was
herself
again
,
and
was
quite
ready
to
enjoy
Christopher
's
society
and
to
excuse
his
scruples
.
She
knew
that
self
of
hers
when
she
said
that
she
wished
she
had
somebody
else
to
play
with
,
in
order
that
she
might
withdraw
the
light
of
her
presence
from
her
offending
henchman
.
To
thus
punish
Christopher
,
until
she
had
found
some
one
to
take
his
place
,
was
a
course
of
action
which
would
not
have
occurred
to
her
.
Elisabeth
's
pride
could
never
stand
in
the
way
of
her
pleasure
;
Christopher
's
,
on
the
contrary
,
might
.
It
was
a
remarkable
fact
that
after
Christopher
had
reproved
Elisabeth
for
some
fault
—
which
happened
neither
infrequently
nor
unnecessarily
—
he
was
always
repentant
and
she
forgiving
;
yet
nine
times
out
of
ten
he
had
been
in
the
right
and
she
in
the
wrong
.
But
Elisabeth
's
was
one
of
those
exceptionally
generous
natures
which
can
pardon
the
reproofs
and
condone
the
virtues
of
their
friends
;
and
she
bore
no
malice
,
even
when
Christopher
had
been
more
obviously
right
than
usual
.
But
she
was
already
enough
of
a
woman
to
adapt
to
her
own
requirements
his
penitence
for
right-doing
;
and
on
this
occasion
she
took
advantage
of
his
chastened
demeanour
to
induce
him
to
assist
her
in
erecting
a
new
shrine
to
Athene
in
the
wood
—
which
meant
that
she
gave
all
the
directions
and
he
did
all
the
work
.
"
You
are
doing
it
beautifully
,
Chris
—
you
really
are
!
"
she
exclaimed
with
delight
.
"
We
shall
be
able
to
have
a
splendid
sacrifice
this
afternoon
.
I
've
got
some
feathers
to
offer
up
from
the
fowl
cook
is
plucking
;
and
they
make
a
much
better
sacrifice
than
waste
paper
.
"
"
Why
?
"
Christopher
was
too
shy
in
those
days
to
put
the
fact
into
words
;
nevertheless
,
the
fact
remained
that
Elisabeth
interested
him
profoundly
.
She
was
so
original
,
so
unexpected
,
that
she
was
continually
providing
him
with
fresh
food
for
thought
.
Although
he
was
cleverer
at
lessons
than
she
was
,
she
was
by
far
the
cleverer
at
play
;
and
though
he
had
the
finer
character
,
hers
was
the
stronger
personality
.
It
was
because
Elisabeth
was
so
much
to
him
that
he
now
and
then
worried
her
easy-going
conscience
with
his
strictures
;
for
,
to
do
him
justice
,
the
boy
was
no
prig
,
and
would
never
have
dreamed
of
preaching
to
anybody
except
her
.
But
it
must
be
remembered
that
Christopher
had
never
heard
of
such
things
as
spiritual
evolutions
and
streams
of
tendency
:
to
him
right
or
wrong
meant
heaven
or
hell
—
neither
more
nor
less
;
and
he
was
overpowered
by
a
burning
anxiety
that
Elisabeth
should
eventually
go
to
heaven
,
partly
for
her
own
sake
,
and
partly
(
since
human
love
is
stronger
than
dogmas
and
doctrines
)
because
a
heaven
,
uncheered
by
the
presence
of
Elisabeth
,
seemed
a
somewhat
dreary
place
wherein
to
spend
one
's
eternity
.
"
Why
do
feathers
make
a
better
sacrifice
than
paper
?
"
repeated
Christopher
,
Elisabeth
being
so
much
absorbed
in
his
work
that
she
had
not
answered
his
question
.
"
Oh
!
because
they
smell
;
and
it
seems
so
much
more
like
a
real
sacrifice
,
somehow
,
if
it
smells
.
"
"
I
see
.
What
ideas
you
do
get
into
your
head
!
"
But
Elisabeth
's
volatile
thoughts
had
flown
off
in
another
direction
.
"
You
really
have
got
awfully
nice-coloured
hair
,
"
she
remarked
,
Chris
having
taken
his
cap
off
for
the
sake
of
coolness
,
as
he
was
heated
with
his
toil
.
"
I
do
wish
I
had
light
hair
like
yours
.
Angels
,
and
goddesses
,
and
princesses
,
and
people
of
that
kind
always
have
golden
hair
;
but
only
bad
fairies
and
cruel
stepmothers
have
nasty
dark
hair
like
me
.
I
think
it
is
horrid
to
have
dark
hair
.
"
"
I
do
n't
:
I
like
dark
hair
best
;
and
I
do
n't
think
yours
is
half
bad
.
"
Christopher
never
overstated
a
case
;
but
then
one
had
the
comfort
of
knowing
that
he
always
meant
what
he
said
,
and
frequently
a
good
deal
more
.
"
Do
n't
you
really
,
Chris
?
I
think
it
is
hideous
,
"
replied
Elisabeth
,
taking
one
of
her
elf-locks
between
her
fingers
and
examining
it
as
if
it
were
a
sample
of
material
;
"
it
is
like
that
ugly
brown
seaweed
which
shows
which
way
the
wind
blows
—
no
,
I
mean
that
shows
whether
it
is
going
to
rain
or
not
.
"
"
Never
mind
;
I
've
seen
lots
of
people
with
uglier
hair
than
yours
.
"
Chris
really
could
be
of
great
consolation
when
he
tried
.
"
Are
n't
the
trees
lovely
when
they
have
got
all
their
leaves
off
?
"
said
Elisabeth
,
her
thoughts
wandering
again
.
"
I
believe
I
like
them
better
now
than
I
do
in
summer
.
Now
they
are
like
the
things
you
wish
for
,
and
in
the
summer
they
are
like
the
things
you
get
;
and
the
things
you
get
are
never
half
as
nice
as
the
things
you
wish
for
.
"
This
was
too
subtle
for
Christopher
.
"
I
like
them
best
with
the
leaves
on
;
but
anyhow
they
are
nicer
to
look
at
than
the
chimneys
that
we
see
from
our
house
.
You
ca
n't
think
how
gloomy
it
is
for
your
rooms
to
look
out
on
nothing
but
smoke
and
chimneys
and
furnaces
.
When
you
go
to
bed
at
night
it
's
all
red
,
and
when
you
get
up
in
the
morning
it
's
all
black
.
"
"
I
should
like
to
live
in
a
house
like
that
.
I
love
the
smoke
and
the
chimneys
and
the
furnaces
—
they
are
all
so
big
and
strong
and
full
of
life
;
and
they
make
you
think
.
"
"
What
on
earth
do
they
make
you
think
about
?
"
Elisabeth
's
gray
eyes
grew
dreamy
.
"
They
make
me
think
that
the
Black
Country
is
a
wilderness
that
we
are
all
travelling
through
;
and
over
it
there
is
always
the
pillar
of
cloud
by
day
and
the
pillar
of
fire
by
night
,
to
tell
us
which
way
to
go
.
I
make
up
tales
to
myself
about
the
people
in
the
wilderness
;
and
how
they
watch
the
pillar
,
and
how
it
keeps
them
from
idling
in
their
work
,
or
selling
bad
iron
,
or
doing
anything
that
is
horrid
or
mean
,
because
it
is
a
sign
to
them
that
God
is
with
them
,
just
as
it
used
to
be
to
the
Children
of
Israel
.
"
Christopher
looked
up
from
his
work
.
Here
was
the
old
problem
:
Elisabeth
did
not
think
about
religion
half
as
much
as
he
did
,
and
yet
the
helpful
and
beautiful
thoughts
came
to
her
and
not
to
him
.
Still
,
it
was
comforting
to
know
that
the
smoke
and
the
glare
,
which
he
had
hated
,
could
convey
such
a
message
;
and
he
made
up
his
mind
not
to
hate
them
any
more
.
"
And
then
I
pretend
that
the
people
come
out
of
the
wilderness
and
go
to
live
in
the
country
over
there
,
"
Elisabeth
continued
,
pointing
to
the
distant
hills
;
"
and
I
make
up
lovely
tales
about
that
country
,
and
all
the
beautiful
things
there
.
That
is
what
is
so
nice
about
hills
:
you
always
think
there
are
such
wonderful
places
on
the
other
side
of
them
.
"
For
some
minutes
Christopher
worked
silently
,
and
Elisabeth
watched
him
.
Then
the
latter
said
suddenly
:
"
Is
n't
it
funny
that
you
never
hate
people
in
a
morning
,
however
much
you
may
have
hated
them
the
night
before
?
"
"
Do
n't
you
?
"
Rapid
changes
of
sentiment
were
beyond
Christopher
's
comprehension
.
He
was
by
no
means
a
variable
person
.
"
Oh
!
no.
Last
night
I
hated
you
,
and
made
up
a
story
in
my
own
mind
that
another
really
nice
boy
came
to
play
with
me
instead
of
you
.
And
I
said
nice
things
to
him
,
and
horrid
things
to
you
;
he
and
I
played
in
the
wood
,
and
you
had
to
do
lessons
all
by
yourself
at
school
,
and
had
nobody
to
play
with
.
But
when
I
woke
up
this
morning
I
did
n't
care
about
the
pretending
boy
any
more
,
and
I
wanted
you
.
"
Christopher
looked
pleased
;
but
it
was
not
his
way
to
express
his
pleasure
in
words
.
"
And
so
,
I
suppose
,
you
came
to
look
for
me
,
"
he
said
.
"
Not
the
first
thing
.
Somehow
it
always
makes
you
like
a
person
better
when
you
have
hated
them
for
a
bit
,
so
I
liked
you
awfully
when
I
woke
this
morning
and
remembered
you
.
When
you
really
are
fond
of
a
person
,
you
always
want
to
do
something
to
please
them
;
so
I
went
and
told
Cousin
Maria
that
I
'd
read
a
lot
of
books
in
the
library
without
thinking
whether
I
ought
to
or
not
;
but
that
now
I
wanted
her
to
say
what
I
might
read
and
what
I
might
n't
.
"
This
was
a
course
of
action
that
Christopher
could
thoroughly
understand
and
appreciate
.
"
Was
she
angry
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Not
a
bit
.
That
is
the
best
of
Cousin
Maria
—
she
never
scolds
you
unless
you
really
deserve
it
;
and
she
is
very
sharp
at
finding
out
whether
you
deserve
it
or
not
.
She
said
that
there
were
a
lot
of
books
in
the
library
that
were
n't
suitable
for
a
little
girl
to
read
;
but
that
it
was
n't
naughty
of
me
to
have
read
what
I
chose
,
since
nobody
had
told
me
not
to
.
And
then
she
said
it
was
good
of
me
to
have
told
her
,
for
she
should
never
have
found
it
out
if
I
had
n't
.
"
"
And
so
it
was
,
"
remarked
Christopher
approvingly
.
"
No
;
it
was
n't
—
and
I
told
her
it
was
n't
.
I
told
her
that
the
goodness
was
yours
,
because
it
was
you
that
made
me
tell
.
I
should
never
have
thought
of
it
by
myself
.
"
"
I
say
,
you
are
a
regular
brick
!
"
Elisabeth
looked
puzzled
.
"
I
do
n't
see
anything
brickish
in
saying
that
;
it
was
the
truth
.
It
was
you
that
made
me
tell
,
you
know
;
and
it
was
n't
fair
for
me
to
be
praised
for
your
goodness
.
"
"
You
really
are
awfully
straight
,
for
a
girl
,
"
said
Christopher
,
with
admiration
;
"
you
could
n't
be
straighter
if
you
were
a
boy
.
"
This
was
high
praise
,
and
Elisabeth
's
pale
little
face
glowed
with
delight
.
She
loved
to
be
commended
.
"
It
was
really
very
good
of
you
to
speak
to
Miss
Farringdon
about
the
books
,
"
continued
Christopher
;
"
for
I
know
you
'll
hate
having
to
ask
permission
before
you
read
a
tale
.
"
"
I
did
n't
do
it
out
of
goodness
,
"
said
Elisabeth
thoughtfully
—
"
I
did
it
to
please
you
;
and
pleasing
a
person
you
are
fond
of
is
n't
goodness
.
I
wonder
if
grown-up
people
get
to
be
as
fond
of
religion
as
they
are
of
one
another
.
I
expect
they
do
;
and
then
they
do
good
things
just
for
the
sake
of
doing
good
.
"
"
Of
course
they
do
,
"
replied
Christopher
,
who
was
always
at
sea
when
Elisabeth
became
metaphysical
.
"
I
suppose
,
"
she
continued
seriously
,
"
that
if
I
were
really
good
,
religion
ought
to
be
the
same
to
me
as
Cousin
Anne
.
"
"
The
same
as
Cousin
Anne
!
What
do
you
mean
?
"
"
I
mean
that
if
I
were
really
good
,
religion
would
give
me
the
same
sort
of
feelings
as
Cousin
Anne
does
.
"
"
What
sort
of
feelings
?
"
"
Oh
!
they
are
lovely
feelings
,
"
Elisabeth
answered
—
"
too
lovely
to
explain
.
Everything
is
a
treat
if
Cousin
Anne
is
there
.
When
she
speaks
,
it
's
just
like
music
trickling
down
your
back
;
and
when
you
do
something
that
you
do
n't
like
to
please
her
,
you
feel
that
you
do
like
it
.
"
"
Well
,
you
are
a
rum
little
thing
!
I
should
think
nobody
ever
thought
of
all
the
queer
things
that
you
think
of
.
"
"
Oh
!
I
expect
everybody
does
,
"
retorted
Elisabeth
,
who
was
far
too
healthy
minded
to
consider
herself
peculiar
.
After
another
pause
,
she
inquired
:
"
Do
you
like
me
,
Chris
?
"
"
Rather
!
What
a
foolish
question
to
ask
!
"
Christopher
replied
,
with
a
blush
,
for
he
was
always
shy
of
talking
about
his
feelings
;
and
the
more
he
felt
the
shyer
he
became
.
But
Elisabeth
was
not
shy
,
and
had
no
sympathy
with
anybody
who
was
.
"
How
much
do
you
like
me
?
"
she
continued
.
"
A
lot
.
"
"
But
I
want
to
know
exactly
how
much
.
"
"
Then
you
ca
n't
.
Nobody
can
tell
how
much
they
like
anybody
.
You
do
ask
silly
questions
!
"
"
Yes
;
they
can
.
I
can
tell
how
much
I
like
everybody
,
"
Elisabeth
persisted
.
"
How
?
"
"
I
have
a
sort
of
thermometer
in
my
mind
,
just
like
the
big
thermometer
in
the
hall
;
and
I
measure
how
much
I
like
people
by
that
.
"
"
How
much
do
you
like
your
Cousin
Anne
?
"
he
asked
.
"
Ninety-six
degrees
,
"
replied
Elisabeth
promptly
.
"
And
your
Cousin
Maria
?
"
"
Sixty
.
"
"
And
Mrs.
Bateson
?
"
"
Fifty-four
.
"
Elisabeth
always
knew
her
own
mind
.
"
I
say
,
how
—
how
—
how
much
do
you
like
me
?
"
asked
Christopher
,
with
some
hesitation
.
"
Sixty-two
,
"
answered
Elisabeth
,
with
no
hesitation
at
all
.
And
Christopher
felt
a
funny
,
cold
feeling
round
his
loyal
heart
.
He
grew
to
know
the
feeling
well
in
after
years
,
and
to
wonder
how
Elisabeth
could
understand
so
much
and
yet
understand
so
little
;
but
at
present
he
was
too
young
to
understand
himself
.
MRS.
BATESON
'S
TEA-PARTY
The
best
of
piggie
when
he
dies
Is
not
"
interred
with
his
bones
,
"
But
,
in
the
form
of
porcine
pies
,
Blesses
a
world
that
heard
his
cries
,
Yet
heeded
not
those
dying
groans
.
"
Cousin
Maria
,
please
may
I
go
to
tea
at
Mrs.
Bateson
's
with
Christopher
?
"
said
Elisabeth
one
day
,
opening
the
library
door
a
little
,
and
endeavouring
to
squeeze
her
small
person
through
as
narrow
an
aperture
as
possible
,
as
is
the
custom
with
children
.
She
never
called
her
playmate
"
Chris
"
in
speaking
to
Miss
Farringdon
;
for
this
latter
regarded
it
as
actually
sinful
to
address
people
by
any
abbreviation
of
their
baptismal
names
,
just
as
she
considered
it
positively
immoral
to
partake
of
any
nourishment
between
meals
.
"
Mrs.
Bateson
has
killed
her
pig
,
and
there
will
be
pork-pies
for
tea
.
"
Miss
Farringdon
looked
over
her
spectacles
at
the
restless
little
figure
.
"
Yes
,
my
child
;
I
see
no
reason
why
you
should
not
.
Kezia
Bateson
is
a
God-fearing
woman
,
and
her
husband
has
worked
at
the
Osierfield
for
forty
years
.
I
have
the
greatest
respect
for
Caleb
Bateson
;
he
is
a
worthy
man
and
a
good
Methodist
,
as
his
father
was
before
him
.
"
"
He
is
a
very
ignorant
man
:
he
says
Penny-lope
.
"
"
Says
what
,
Elisabeth
?
"
"
Penny-lope
.
I
was
showing
him
a
book
the
other
day
about
Penelope
—
the
woman
with
the
web
,
you
know
—
and
he
called
her
Penny-lope
.
I
did
n't
like
to
correct
him
,
but
I
said
Penelope
afterward
as
often
and
as
loud
as
I
could
.
"
"
That
was
very
ill-bred
of
you
.
Come
here
,
Elisabeth
.
"
The
child
came
and
stood
by
the
old
lady
's
chair
,
and
began
playing
with
a
bunch
of
seals
that
were
suspended
by
a
gold
chain
from
Miss
Farringdon
's
waist
.
It
was
one
of
Elisabeth
's
little
tricks
that
her
fingers
were
never
idle
when
she
was
talking
.
"
What
have
I
taught
you
are
the
two
chief
ends
at
which
every
woman
should
aim
,
my
child
?
"
"
To
be
first
a
Christian
and
then
a
gentlewoman
,
"
quoted
Elisabeth
glibly
.
"
And
how
does
a
true
gentlewoman
show
her
good
breeding
?
"
"
By
never
doing
or
saying
anything
that
could
make
any
one
else
feel
uncomfortable
,
"
Elisabeth
quoted
again
.
"
Then
do
you
think
that
to
display
your
own
knowledge
by
showing
up
another
person
's
ignorance
would
make
that
person
feel
comfortable
,
Elisabeth
?
"
"
No
,
Cousin
Maria
.
"
"
Knowledge
is
not
good
breeding
,
remember
;
it
is
a
far
less
important
matter
.
A
true
gentlewoman
may
be
ignorant
;
but
a
true
gentlewoman
will
never
be
inconsiderate
.
"
Elisabeth
hung
her
head
.
"
I
see
.
"
"
If
you
keep
your
thoughts
fixed
upon
the
people
to
whom
you
are
talking
,
and
never
upon
yourself
,
you
will
always
have
good
manners
,
my
child
.
Endeavour
to
interest
and
not
to
impress
them
.
"
"
You
mean
I
must
talk
about
their
things
and
not
about
mine
?
"
"
More
than
that
.
Make
the
most
of
any
common
ground
between
yourself
and
them
;
make
the
least
of
any
difference
between
yourself
and
them
;
and
,
above
all
,
keep
strenuously
out
of
sight
any
real
or
fancied
superiority
you
may
possess
over
them
.
I
always
think
that
Saint
Paul
's
saying
,
'
To
the
weak
became
I
as
weak
,
'
was
the
perfection
of
good
manners
.
"
"
I
do
n't
think
I
quite
understand
.
"
Miss
Farringdon
spoke
in
parables
.
"
Then
listen
to
this
story
.
There
was
once
a
common
soldier
who
raised
himself
from
the
ranks
and
earned
a
commission
.
He
was
naturally
very
nervous
the
first
night
he
dined
at
the
officers
'
mess
,
as
he
had
never
dined
with
gentlemen
before
,
and
he
was
afraid
of
making
some
mistake
.
It
happened
that
the
wine
was
served
while
the
soup
was
yet
on
the
table
,
and
with
the
wine
the
ice
.
