, as you 0
know , was a sort of
gentleman farmer 3
in — shire
52 ; and I 1
, by his 2
express desire , succeeded him 2
in the same quiet occupation , not very willingly , for ambition urged me 1
to higher aims , and self-conceit assured me 1
that , in disregarding its voice , I 1
was burying my 1
talent in the earth , and hiding my 1
light under a bushel .
had done her 4
utmost to persuade me 1
that I 1
was capable of great achievements ; but , who thought ambition was the surest road to ruin , and change but another word for destruction , would listen to no scheme for bettering either my 1
own condition , or that of .
He 2
assured me 1
it was all rubbish , and exhorted me 1
, with his 2
dying breath , to continue in the good old way , to follow his 2
steps , and those of before him 2
, and let my 1
highest ambition be to walk honestly through the world 7
, looking neither to the right hand nor to the left , and to transmit the paternal acres 8
to in , at least , as flourishing a condition as he 2
left them 8
to me 1
.
‘ Well !
— an honest and industrious farmer 10
is one of the most useful members of society 11
; and if I 1
devote my 1
talents to the cultivation of , and the improvement of agriculture in general , I 1
shall thereby benefit , not only my 1
own immediate connections and dependants
13 , but , in some degree , mankind at large 5
: — hence I 1
shall not have lived in vain . ’
With such reflections as these I 1
was endeavouring to console myself 1
, as I 1
plodded home 14
from the fields 8
, one cold , damp , cloudy evening towards the close of October .
But the gleam of a bright red fire through the parlour 15
window had more effect in cheering my 1
spirits , and rebuking my 1
thankless repinings , than all the sage reflections and good resolutions I 1
had forced my 1
mind to frame ; — for I 1
was young then , remember — only four-and-twenty — and had not acquired half the rule over my 1
own spirit that I 1
now possess — trifling as that may be .
However , that haven of bliss must not be entered till I 1
had exchanged my 1
miry boots for a clean pair of shoes , and my 1
rough surtout for a respectable coat , and made myself 1
generally presentable before decent society 16
; for , with all her 4
kindness , was vastly particular on certain points .
In ascending to I 1
was met upon the stairs 18
by a smart , pretty girl of nineteen , with a tidy , dumpy figure , a round face , bright , blooming cheeks , glossy , clustering curls , and little merry brown eyes 19
.
I 1
need not tell you 0
this was Rose 19
.
She 19
is , I 1
know , a comely matron still 53
, and , doubtless , no less lovely — in your 0
eyes — than on the happy day you 0
first beheld her 19
.
Nothing told me 1
then that she 19
, a few years hence , would be the wife of
one entirely unknown to
me 1
as yet , but destined hereafter to become a closer friend than even
herself 19
, more intimate than
that unmannerly lad of seventeen 20
, by whom
I 1
was collared in the passage , on coming down , and well-nigh jerked off
my 1
equilibrium , and who , in correction for
his 20
impudence , received a resounding whack over the sconce , which , however , sustained no serious injury from the infliction
0 55 ; as , besides being more than commonly thick , it was protected by a redundant shock of short , reddish curls , that called auburn .
On entering the parlour 15
we 21
found that honoured lady seated in
her 4
arm-chair at the fireside , working away at
her 4
knitting , according to
her 4
usual custom , when
she 4
had nothing else to do
4 .
She 4
had swept the hearth , and made a bright blazing fire for our 21
reception ; the servant 22
had just brought in the tea-tray ; and Rose 19
was producing the sugar-basin and tea-caddy from the cupboard in the black oak side-board , that shone like polished ebony , in the cheerful parlour 15
twilight .
‘ Well !
here they 21
both are , ’ cried , looking round upon us 21
without retarding the motion of her 4
nimble fingers and glittering needles .
‘ Now shut the door , and come to the fire , while Rose 19
gets the tea ready ; I 4
’m sure you 1
must be starved ; — and tell me 4
what you 1
’ve been about all day ; — I 4
like to know what have been about . ’
‘ I 1
’ve been breaking in the grey colt — no easy business that — directing the ploughing of the last wheat stubble — for the ploughboy 24
has not the sense to direct himself 24
— and carrying out a plan for the extensive and efficient draining of the low meadowlands 25
. ’
‘ That ’s !
— and Fergus 20
, what have you 20
been doing ? ’
‘ Badger-baiting . ’
And here he 20
proceeded to give a particular account of his 20
sport , and the respective traits of prowess evinced by the badger and the dogs ; pretending to listen with deep attention , and watching his 20
animated countenance with a degree of maternal admiration I 1
thought highly disproportioned to its object .
‘ It ’s time you 20
should be doing something else , Fergus 20
, ’ said I 1
, as soon as a momentary pause in his 20
narration allowed me 1
to get in a word .
‘ What can I 20
do ? ’
replied he 20
; ‘ wo n’t let me 20
go to sea 26
or enter the army 27
; and I 20
’m determined to do nothing else — except make myself 20
such a nuisance to you 28
all , that you 28
will be thankful to get rid of me 20
on any terms . ’
soothingly stroked his 20
stiff , short curls .
He 20
growled , and tried to look sulky , and then we 29
all took our 29
seats at the table , in obedience to the thrice-repeated summons of Rose 19
.
‘ Now take your 29
tea , ’ said she 19
; ‘ and I 19
’ll tell you 29
what I 19
’ve been doing .
I 19
’ve been to call on the Wilsons 30
; and it ’s a thousand pities you 1
did n’t go with me 19
, Gilbert 1
, for Eliza Millward 31
was there 32
! ’
‘ Well !
what of her 31
? ’
‘ Oh , nothing !
— I 19
’m not going to tell you 1
about her 31
; — only that she 31
’s a nice , amusing little thing 54
, when she 31
is in a merry humour , and I 19
should n’t mind calling her 31
— ’ ‘ Hush , hush , !
has no such idea ! ’
whispered earnestly , holding up her 4
finger .
‘ Well , ’ resumed Rose 19
; ‘ I 19
was going to tell you 1
an important piece of news I 1
heard there 32
— I 19
have been bursting with it ever since .
You 1
know it was reported a month ago , that somebody 33
was going to take Wildfell Hall 34
— and — what do you 1
think ?
It 34
has actually been inhabited above a week !
— and we 35
never knew ! ’
‘ Impossible ! ’
cried .
‘ Preposterous !!! ’
shrieked Fergus 20
.
‘ It 34
has indeed !
— and by a single lady 36
! ’
‘ Good gracious , my 4
dear !
The place 34
is in ruins ! ’
‘ She 36
has had two or three rooms 37
made habitable ; and there 34
she 36
lives , all alone — except an old woman for
a servant 39
38 ! ’
‘ Oh , dear !
that spoils it — I 20
’d hoped she 36
was a witch 40
, ’ observed Fergus 20
, while carving his 20
inch-thick slice of bread and butter .
‘ Nonsense , Fergus 20
!
But is n’t it strange , mamma 4
? ’
‘ Strange !
I 4
can hardly believe it . ’
‘ But you 4
may believe it ; for Jane Wilson 41
has seen her 36
.
She 41
went with her 41
mother , who , of course , when
she 42
heard of
a stranger being in
the neighbourhood 44
43 , would be on pins and needles till
she 42
had seen
her 36
and got all
she 42
could out of
her 36
42 .
She 36
is called Mrs. Graham 36
, and she 36
is in mourning — not widow ’s weeds , but slightish mourning — and she 36
is quite young , they 45
say , — not above five or six and twenty , — but so reserved !
They 45
tried all they 45
could to find out who she 36
was and where she 36
came from , and , all about her 36
, but neither Mrs. Wilson 42
, with her 42
pertinacious and impertinent home-thrusts , nor Miss Wilson 41
, with her 41
skilful manoeuvring , could manage to elicit a single satisfactory answer , or even a casual remark , or chance expression calculated to allay their 45
curiosity , or throw the faintest ray of light upon her 36
history , circumstances , or connections .
Moreover , she 36
was barely civil to them 45
, and evidently better pleased to say ‘ good-by , ’ than ‘ how do you 46
do . ’
But Eliza Millward 31
says intends to call upon her 36
soon , to offer some pastoral advice , which he 47
fears she 36
needs , as , though she 36
is known to have entered the neighbourhood 44
early last week , she 36
did not make her 36
appearance at church 48
on Sunday ; and she 31
— Eliza 31
, that is — will beg to accompany him 47
, and is sure she 31
can succeed in wheedling something out of her 36
— you 1
know , Gilbert 1
, she 31
can do anything .
And we 49
should call some time , mamma 4
; it ’s only proper , you 4
know . ’
‘ Of course , .
Poor thing !
How lonely she 36
must feel ! ’
‘ And pray , be quick about it ; and mind you 20
bring me 20
word how much sugar she 36
puts in her 36
tea , and what sort of caps and aprons she 36
wears , and all about it ; for I 20
do n’t know how I 20
can live till I 20
know , ’ said Fergus 20
, very gravely .
But if he 20
intended the speech to be hailed as a master-stroke of wit , he 20
signally failed , for nobody 50
laughed .
However , he 20
was not much disconcerted at that ; for when he 20
had taken a mouthful of bread and butter and was about to swallow a gulp of tea , the humour of the thing burst upon him 20
with such irresistible force , that he 20
was obliged to jump up from the table , and rush snorting and choking from the room 15
; and a minute after , was heard screaming in fearful agony in the garden 51
.
As for me 1
, I 1
was hungry , and contented myself 1
with silently demolishing the tea , ham , and toast , while and sister 19
went on talking , and continued to discuss the apparent or non-apparent circumstances , and probable or improbable history of the mysterious lady 36
; but I 1
must confess that , after ’s misadventure , I 1
once or twice raised the cup to my 1
lips , and put it down again without daring to taste the contents , lest I 1
should injure my 1
dignity by a similar explosion .