THE SUBSTITUTION
Next Sunday was one of the of April days—a day of thick, dark clouds, and showers. None of the Murrays were to church in the afternoon, Rosalie: she was upon going as usual; so she ordered the carriage, and I with her: nothing loth, of course, for at church I might look without of or upon a and more to me than the most of God's creations; I might without to a voice more than the music to my ears; I might to with that in which I so interested, and its purest and aspirations, with no to such the of my conscience, which would too often that I was my own self, and God with the service of a more upon the than the Creator.
Sometimes, such would give me trouble enough; but sometimes I them with thinking—it is not the man, it is his that I love. "Whatsoever are pure, are lovely, are and of good report, think on these things." We do well to God in His works; and I know none of them in which so many of His attributes—so much of His own shines, as in this His servant; to know and not to appreciate, were in me, who have so little else to my heart.
Almost after the of the service, Miss Murray left the church. We had to in the porch, for it was raining, and the was not yet come. I at her so hastily, for neither Meltham Squire Green was there; but I soon it was to secure an with Mr. Weston as he came out, which he presently did. Having us both, he would have passed on, but she him; with upon the weather, and then with if he would be so as to come some time to-morrow to see the of the old woman who the porter's lodge, for the girl was of a fever, and to see him. He promised to do so.
"And at what time will you be most likely to come, Mr. Weston? The old woman will like to know when to you—you know such people think more about having their in order when people come to see them than we are to suppose."
Here was a of from the Miss Murray. Mr. Weston named an hour in the at which he would to be there. By this time the was ready, and the was waiting, with an open umbrella, to Miss Murray through the churchyard. I was about to follow; but Mr. Weston had an too, and offered me the of its shelter, for it was heavily.
"No, thank you, I don't mind the rain," I said. I always common when taken by surprise.
"But you don't like it, I suppose?—an will do you no at any rate," he replied, with a that he was not offended; as a man of or less would have been at such a of his aid. I not the truth of his assertion, and so with him to the carriage; he offered me his hand on in: an piece of civility, but I that too, for of offence. One he gave, one little at parting—it was but for a moment; but I read, or I read, a meaning that in my a of than had yet arisen.
"I would have sent the for you, Miss Grey, if you'd waited a moment—you needn't have taken Mr. Weston's umbrella," Rosalie, with a very cloud upon her face.
"I would have come without an umbrella, but Mr. Weston offered me the of his, and I not have it more than I did without him," I, placidly; for my that amusing, which would have me at another time.
The was now in motion. Miss Murray forwards, and looked out of the window as we were Mr. Weston. He was along the causeway, and did not turn his head.
"Stupid ass!" she, herself again in the seat. "You don't know what you've by not looking this way!"
"What has he lost?"
"A from me, that would have him to the seventh heaven!"
I no answer. I saw she was out of humour, and I a from the fact, not that she was vexed, but that she she had to be so. It me think my were not the of my and imagination.
"I to take up Mr. Weston of Mr. Hatfield," said my companion, after a pause, something of her cheerfulness. "The at Ashby Park takes place on Tuesday, you know; and thinks it very likely that Sir Thomas will to me then: such are often done in the of the ball-room, when are most easily ensnared, and ladies most enchanting. But if I am to be married so soon, I must make the best of the present time: I am Hatfield shall not be the only man who shall his at my feet, and me to accept the gift in vain."
"If you Mr. Weston to be one of your victims," said I, with indifference, "you will have to make such that you will it difficult to when he you to the you have raised."
"I don't he will ask me to him, should I it: that would be too much presumption! but I him to my power. He has it already, indeed: but he shall it too; and what he may have, he must keep to himself, and only me with the result of them—for a time."
"Oh! that some would those in his ear," I exclaimed. I was too to a reply to her aloud; and nothing more was said about Mr. Weston that day, by me or in my hearing. But next morning, soon after breakfast, Miss Murray came into the schoolroom, where her sister was at her studies, or her lessons, for they were not, and said, "Matilda, I want you to take a walk with me about eleven o'clock."
"Oh, I can't, Rosalie! I have to give orders about my new and saddle-cloth, and speak to the rat-catcher about his dogs: Miss Grey must go with you."
"No, I want you," said Rosalie; and calling her sister to the window, she an in her ear; upon which the to go.
I that eleven was the hour at which Mr. Weston to come to the porter's lodge; and that, I the whole contrivance. Accordingly, at dinner, I was with a long account of how Mr. Weston had overtaken them as they were walking along the road; and how they had had a long walk and talk with him, and him an companion; and how he must have been, and was, with them and their condescension, &c. &c.
