THE WALK
"Oh, dear! I wish Hatfield had not been so precipitate!" said Rosalie next day at four P.M., as, with a yawn, she her worsted-work and looked the window. "There's no to go out now; and nothing to look to. The days will be so long and when there are no parties to them; and there are none this week, or next either, that I know of."
"Pity you were so to him," Matilda, to this was addressed. "He'll come again: and I you liked him after all. I you would have taken him for your beau, and left dear Harry to me."
"Humph! my must be an Adonis indeed, Matilda, the of all beholders, if I am to be with him alone. I'm sorry to Hatfield, I confess; but the man, or number of men, that come to supply his place, will be more than welcome. It's Sunday to-morrow—I do wonder how he'll look, and he'll be able to go through the service. Most likely he'll he's got a cold, and make Mr. Weston do it all."
"Not he!" Matilda, contemptuously. "Fool as he is, he's not so soft as that comes to."
Her sister was offended; but the event proved Matilda was right: the lover performed his as usual. Rosalie, indeed, he looked very and dejected: he might be a little paler; but the difference, if any, was perceptible. As for his dejection, I did not his laugh from the as usual, his voice loud in discourse; though I did it in the in a manner that the stare; and, in his to and from the and the communion-table, there was more of pomp, and less of that irreverent, self-confident, or self-delighted with which he along—that air that to say, "You all and me, I know; but if anyone not, I him to the teeth!" But the most was, that he once his to in the direction of Mr. Murray's pew, and did not the church till we were gone.
Mr. Hatfield had a very blow; but his him to use every to the of it. He had been in his of not only a beautiful, and, to him, wife, but one rank and might give to charms: he was likewise, no doubt, by his repulse, and at the of Miss Murray throughout. It would have him no little to have how she was to him so little moved, and to see that he was able to from a single at her services; though, she declared, it he was of her all the time, or his would have upon her, if it were only by chance: but if they had so to fall, she would have it was they not the attraction. It might have pleased him, too, in some degree, to have how and she was that week (the part of it, at least), for of her of excitement; and how often she having "used him up so soon," like a child that, having its too hastily, its fingers, and its greediness.
At length I was called upon, one morning, to her in a walk to the village. Ostensibly she to some of Berlin wool, at a shop that was supported by the ladies of the vicinity: really—I trust there is no of in that she with the idea of meeting either with the Rector himself, or some other by the way; for as we along, she "what Hatfield would do or say, if we met him," &c. &c.; as we passed Mr. Green's park-gates, she "wondered he was at home—great blockhead"; as Lady Meltham's passed us, she "wondered what Mr. Harry was doing this day"; and then to his for being "such a as to married and go and live in London."
"Why," said I, "I you wanted to live in London yourself."
"Yes, it's so here: but then he makes it still by taking himself off: and if he were not married I might have him of that Sir Thomas."
Then, the prints of a horse's on the road, she "wondered it was a gentleman's horse," and it was, for the were too small to have been by a "great cart-horse"; and then she "wondered who the be," and we should meet him back, for she was sure he had only passed that morning; and lastly, when we entered the village and saw only a of its moving about, she "wondered why the people couldn't keep in their houses; she was sure she didn't want to see their faces, and dirty, clothes—it wasn't for that she came to Horton!"
Amid all this, I confess, I wondered, too, in secret, we should meet, or catch a of somebody else; and as we passed his lodgings, I so as to wonder he was at the window. On entering the shop, Miss Murray me to in the while she her business, and tell her if anyone passed. But alas! there was no one visible the villagers, Jane and Susan Green the single street, returning from a walk.
"Stupid things!" she, as she came out after having her bargain. "Why couldn't they have their of a with them? he would be than nothing."
She them, however, with a smile, and of at the happy meeting equal to their own. They themselves one on each of her, and all three walked away and laughing as ladies do when they together, if they be but on terms. But I, myself to be one too many, left them to their and behind, as on such occasions: I had no for walking Miss Green or Miss Susan like one and dumb, who neither speak be spoken to.
But this time I was not long alone. It me, first, as very odd, that just as I was about Mr. Weston he should come up and me; but afterwards, on reflection, I there was nothing odd about it, unless it were the of his speaking to me; for on such a and so near his own abode, it was natural that he should be about; and as for my of him, I had been doing that, with little intermission, since we set out on our journey; so there was nothing in that.
"You are alone again, Miss Grey," said he.
"Yes."
"What of people are those ladies—the Misses Green?"
"I don't know."
"That's strange—when you live so near and see them so often!"
"Well, I they are lively, good-tempered girls; but I you must know them than I do, yourself, for I a word with either of them."
"Indeed? They don't me as being particularly reserved."
"Very likely they are not so to people of their own class; but they themselves as moving in a different from me!"
He no reply to this: but after a pause, he said, "I it's these things, Miss Grey, that make you think you not live without a home?"
"Not exactly. The is I am too to be able to live without a friend; and as the only friends I have, or am likely to have, are at home, if it—or rather, if they were gone—I will not say I not live—but I would not live in such a world."
"But why do you say the only friends you are likely to have? Are you so that you cannot make friends?"
"No, but I one yet; and in my present position there is no possibility of doing so, or of a common acquaintance. The fault may be in myself, but I not altogether."
"The fault is in society, and partly, I should think, in your neighbours: and partly, too, in yourself; for many ladies, in your position, would make themselves be noticed and of. But your should be for you in some degree; they cannot be many years than yourself."
"Oh, yes, they are good company sometimes; but I cannot call them friends, would they think of such a name on me—they have other to their tastes."
"Perhaps you are too wise for them. How do you when alone—do you read much?"
"Reading is my occupation, when I have for it and books to read."
From speaking of books in general, he passed to different books in particular, and by from to topic, till matters, of taste and opinion, had been the space of an hour, but without the of many from himself; he being less upon his own and predilections, than on mine. He had not the tact, or the art, to such a purpose by out my or ideas through the or of his own, or leading the by to such as he to to: but such abruptness, and such single-minded straightforwardness, not possibly me.
"And why should he himself at all in my and capacities: what is it to him what I think or feel?" I asked myself. And my in answer to the question.
But Jane and Susan Green soon their home. As they at the park-gates, attempting to Miss Murray to come in, I Mr. Weston would go, that she might not see him with me when she round; but, unfortunately, his business, which was to pay one more visit to Mark Wood, him to the same path as we did, till nearly the close of our journey. When, however, he saw that Rosalie had taken of her friends and I was about to join her, he would have left me and passed on at a pace; but, as he his in her, to my surprise, of returning the with a stiff, bow, she him with one of her smiles, and, walking by his side, to talk to him with all and affability; and so we all three together.
After a pause in the conversation, Mr. Weston some particularly to me, as to something we had been talking of before; but I answer, Miss Murray to the and upon it: he rejoined; and, from to the close of the interview, she him to herself. It might be to my own stupidity, my want of and assurance: but I myself wronged: I with apprehension; and I with to her easy, of utterance, and saw with the with which she looked into his from time to time: for she was walking a little in advance, for the purpose (as I judged) of being as well as heard. If her was light and trivial, it was amusing, and she was at a for something to say, or for to it in. There was nothing or in her manner now, as when she walked with Mr. Hatfield, there was only a gentle, of vivacity, which I must be to a man of Mr. Weston's and temperament.
When he was gone she to laugh, and to herself, "I I do it!"
"Do what?" I asked.
"Fix that man."
"What in the world do you mean?"
"I that he will go home and of me. I have him through the heart!"
"How do you know?"
"By many proofs: more the look he gave me when he away. It was not an look—I him from that—it was a look of reverential, adoration. Ha, ha! he's not such a as I him!"
I no answer, for my was in my throat, or something like it, and I not trust myself to speak. "O God, it!" I cried, "for his sake, not for mine!"
Miss Murray as we passed up the park, to which (in of my to let one of my appear) I only answer by monosyllables. Whether she to me, or to herself, I not tell—and did not much care; but I of the man and his one lamb, and the rich man with his thousand flocks; and I I not what for Mr. Weston, of my own hopes.
Right was I to into the house, and myself alone once more in my own room. My was to into the chair the bed; and my on the pillow, to in a of tears: there was an for such an indulgence; but, alas! I must and my still: there was the bell—the for the dinner; and I must go with a face, and smile, and laugh, and talk nonsense—yes, and eat, too, if possible, as if all was right, and I was just returned from a walk.
