Chapter XI

by George Eliot

　　Some women, I grant, would not appear to advantage seated on apillion, and attired in a drab joseph and a drab beaver-bonnet, witha crown resembling a small stew-pan; for a garment suggesting acoachman's greatcoat, cut out under an exiguity of cloth that wouldonly allow of miniature capes, is not well adapted to concealdeficiencies of contour, nor is drab a colour that will throw sallowcheeks into lively contrast. It was all the greater triumph to MissNancy Lammeter's beauty that she looked thoroughly bewitching inthat costume, as, seated on the pillion behind her tall, erectfather, she held one arm round him, and looked down, with open-eyedanxiety, at the treacherous snow-covered pools and puddles, whichsent up formidable splashings of mud under the stamp of Dobbin'sfoot. A painter would, perhaps, have preferred her in those momentswhen she was free from self-consciousness; but certainly the bloomon her cheeks was at its highest point of contrast with thesurrounding drab when she arrived at the door of the Red House, andsaw Mr. Godfrey Cass ready to lift her from the pillion. She wishedher sister Priscilla had come up at the same time behind theservant, for then she would have contrived that Mr. Godfrey shouldhave lifted off Priscilla first, and, in the meantime, she wouldhave persuaded her father to go round to the horse-block instead ofalighting at the door-steps. It was very painful, when you had madeit quite clear to a young man that you were determined not to marryhim, however much he might wish it, that he would still continue topay you marked attentions; besides, why didn't he always show thesame attentions, if he meant them sincerely, instead of being sostrange as Mr. Godfrey Cass was, sometimes behaving as if he didn'twant to speak to her, and taking no notice of her for weeks andweeks, and then, all on a sudden, almost making love again?Moreover, it was quite plain he had no real love for her, else hewould not let people have that to say of him which they did say.Did he suppose that Miss Nancy Lammeter was to be won by any man,squire or no squire, who led a bad life? That was not what she hadbeen used to see in her own father, who was the soberest and bestman in that country-side, only a little hot and hasty now and then,if things were not done to the minute.All these thoughts rushed through Miss Nancy's mind, in theirhabitual succession, in the moments between her first sight ofMr. Godfrey Cass standing at the door and her own arrival there.Happily, the Squire came out too and gave a loud greeting to herfather, so that, somehow, under cover of this noise she seemed tofind concealment for her confusion and neglect of any suitablyformal behaviour, while she was being lifted from the pillion bystrong arms which seemed to find her ridiculously small and light.And there was the best reason for hastening into the house at once,since the snow was beginning to fall again, threatening anunpleasant journey for such guests as were still on the road. Thesewere a small minority; for already the afternoon was beginning todecline, and there would not be too much time for the ladies whocame from a distance to attire themselves in readiness for the earlytea which was to inspirit them for the dance.There was a buzz of voices through the house, as Miss Nancy entered,mingled with the scrape of a fiddle preluding in the kitchen; butthe Lammeters were guests whose arrival had evidently been thoughtof so much that it had been watched for from the windows, forMrs. Kimble, who did the honours at the Red House on these greatoccasions, came forward to meet Miss Nancy in the hall, and conducther up-stairs. Mrs. Kimble was the Squire's sister, as well as thedoctor's wife--a double dignity, with which her diameter was indirect proportion; so that, a journey up-stairs being ratherfatiguing to her, she did not oppose Miss Nancy's request to beallowed to find her way alone to the Blue Room, where the MissLammeters' bandboxes had been deposited on their arrival in themorning.There was hardly a bedroom in the house where feminine complimentswere not passing and feminine toilettes going forward, in variousstages, in space made scanty by extra beds spread upon the floor;and Miss Nancy, as she entered the Blue Room, had to make her littleformal curtsy to a group of six. On the one hand, there were ladiesno less important than the two Miss Gunns, the wine merchant'sdaughters from Lytherly, dressed in the height of fashion, with thetightest skirts and the shortest waists, and gazed at by MissLadbrook (of the Old Pastures) with a shyness not unsustained byinward criticism. Partly, Miss Ladbrook felt that her own skirtmust be regarded as unduly lax by the Miss Gunns, and partly, thatit was a pity the Miss Gunns did not show that judgment which sheherself would show if she were in their place, by stopping a littleon this side of the fashion. On the other hand, Mrs. Ladbrook wasstanding in skull-cap and front, with her turban in her hand,curtsying and smiling blandly and saying, "After you, ma'am," toanother lady in similar circumstances, who had politely offered theprecedence at the looking-glass.But Miss Nancy had no sooner made her curtsy than an elderly ladycame forward, whose full white muslin kerchief, and mob-cap roundher curls of smooth grey hair, were in daring contrast with thepuffed yellow satins and top-knotted caps of her neighbours. Sheapproached Miss Nancy with much primness, and said, with a slow,treble suavity--"Niece, I hope I see you well in health." Miss Nancy kissed heraunt's cheek dutifully, and answered, with the same sort of amiableprimness, "Quite well, I thank you, aunt; and I hope I see you thesame.""Thank you, niece; I keep my health for the present. And how is mybrother-in-law?"These dutiful questions and answers were continued until it wasascertained in detail that the Lammeters were all as well as usual,and the Osgoods likewise, also that niece Priscilla must certainlyarrive shortly, and that travelling on pillions in snowy weather wasunpleasant, though a joseph was a great protection. Then Nancy wasformally introduced to her aunt's visitors, the Miss Gunns, as beingthe daughters of a mother known to their mother, though now forthe first time induced to make a journey into these parts; and theseladies were so taken by surprise at finding such a lovely face andfigure in an out-of-the-way country place, that they began to feelsome curiosity about the dress she would put on when she took offher joseph. Miss Nancy, whose thoughts were always conducted withthe propriety and moderation conspicuous in her manners, remarked toherself that the Miss Gunns were rather hard-featured thanotherwise, and that such very low dresses as they wore might havebeen attributed to vanity if their shoulders had been pretty, butthat, being as they were, it was not reasonable to suppose that theyshowed their necks from a love of display, but rather from someobligation not inconsistent with sense and modesty. She feltconvinced, as she opened her box, that this must be her auntOsgood's opinion, for Miss Nancy's mind resembled her aunt's to adegree that everybody said was surprising, considering the kinshipwas on Mr. Osgood's side; and though you might not have supposed itfrom the formality of their greeting, there was a devoted attachmentand mutual admiration between aunt and niece. Even Miss Nancy'srefusal of her cousin Gilbert Osgood (on the ground solely that hewas her cousin), though it had grieved her aunt greatly, had not inthe least cooled the preference which had determined her to leaveNancy several of her hereditary ornaments, let Gilbert's future wifebe whom she might.Three of the ladies quickly retired, but the Miss Gunns were quitecontent that Mrs. Osgood's inclination to remain with her niece gavethem also a reason for staying to see the rustic beauty's toilette.And it was really a pleasure--from the first opening of thebandbox, where everything smelt of lavender and rose-leaves, to theclasping of the small coral necklace that fitted closely round herlittle white neck. Everything belonging to Miss Nancy was ofdelicate purity and nattiness: not a crease was where it had nobusiness to be, not a bit of her linen professed whiteness withoutfulfilling its profession; the very pins on her pincushion werestuck in after a pattern from which she was careful to allow noaberration; and as for her own person, it gave the same idea ofperfect unvarying neatness as the body of a little bird. It is truethat her light-brown hair was cropped behind like a boy's, and wasdressed in front in a number of flat rings, that lay quite away fromher face; but there was no sort of coiffure that could make MissNancy's cheek and neck look otherwise than pretty; and when at lastshe stood complete in her silvery twilled silk, her lace tucker, hercoral necklace, and coral ear-drops, the Miss Gunns could seenothing to criticise except her hands, which bore the traces ofbutter-making, cheese-crushing, and even still coarser work. ButMiss Nancy was not ashamed of that, for even while she was dressingshe narrated to her aunt how she and Priscilla had packed theirboxes yesterday, because this morning was baking morning, and sincethey were leaving home, it was desirable to make a good supply ofmeat-pies for the kitchen; and as she concluded this judiciousremark, she turned to the Miss Gunns that she might not commit therudeness of not including them in the conversation. The Miss Gunnssmiled stiffly, and thought what a pity it was that these richcountry people, who could afford to buy such good clothes (reallyMiss Nancy's lace and silk were very costly), should be brought upin utter ignorance and vulgarity. She actually said "mate" for"meat", "'appen" for "perhaps", and "oss" for "horse",which, to young ladies living in good Lytherly society, whohabitually said 'orse, even in domestic privacy, and only said'appen on the right occasions, was necessarily shocking. MissNancy, indeed, had never been to any school higher than DameTedman's: her acquaintance with profane literature hardly wentbeyond the rhymes she had worked in her large sampler under the lamband the shepherdess; and in order to balance an account, she wasobliged to effect her subtraction by removing visible metallicshillings and sixpences from a visible metallic total. There ishardly a servant-maid in these days who is not better informed thanMiss Nancy; yet she had the essential attributes of a lady--highveracity, delicate honour in her dealings, deference to others, andrefined personal habits,--and lest these should not suffice toconvince grammatical fair ones that her feelings can at all resembletheirs, I will add that she was slightly proud and exacting, and asconstant in her affection towards a baseless opinion as towards anerring lover.The anxiety about sister Priscilla, which had grown rather active bythe time the coral necklace was clasped, was happily ended by theentrance of that cheerful-looking lady herself, with a face madeblowsy by cold and damp. After the first questions and greetings,she turned to Nancy, and surveyed her from head to foot--thenwheeled her round, to ascertain that the back view was equallyfaultless."What do you think o' these gowns, aunt Osgood?" saidPriscilla, while Nancy helped her to unrobe."Very handsome indeed, niece," said Mrs. Osgood, with a slightincrease of formality. She always thought niece Priscilla toorough."I'm obliged to have the same as Nancy, you know, for all I'm fiveyears older, and it makes me look yallow; for she never will haveanything without I have mine just like it, because she wants us tolook like sisters. And I tell her, folks 'ull think it's myweakness makes me fancy as I shall look pretty in what she lookspretty in. For I am ugly--there's no denying that: I feature myfather's family. But, law! I don't mind, do you?" Priscilla hereturned to the Miss Gunns, rattling on in too much preoccupation withthe delight of talking, to notice that her candour was notappreciated. "The pretty uns do for fly-catchers--they keep themen off us. I've no opinion o' the men, Miss Gunn--I don't knowwhat you have. And as for fretting and stewing about whatthey'll think of you from morning till night, and making your lifeuneasy about what they're doing when they're out o' your sight--asI tell Nancy, it's a folly no woman need be guilty of, if she's gota good father and a good home: let her leave it to them as have gotno fortin, and can't help themselves. As I say,Mr. Have-your-own-way is the best husband, and the only one I'd everpromise to obey. I know it isn't pleasant, when you've been used toliving in a big way, and managing hogsheads and all that, to go andput your nose in by somebody else's fireside, or to sit down byyourself to a scrag or a knuckle; but, thank God! my father's asober man and likely to live; and if you've got a man by thechimney-corner, it doesn't matter if he's childish--the businessneedn't be broke up."The delicate process of getting her narrow gown over her headwithout injury to her smooth curls, obliged Miss Priscilla to pausein this rapid survey of life, and Mrs. Osgood seized the opportunityof rising and saying--"Well, niece, you'll follow us. The Miss Gunns will like to godown.""Sister," said Nancy, when they were alone, "you've offended theMiss Gunns, I'm sure.""What have I done, child?" said Priscilla, in some alarm."Why, you asked them if they minded about being ugly--you're sovery blunt.""Law, did I? Well, it popped out: it's a mercy I said no more, forI'm a bad un to live with folks when they don't like the truth. Butas for being ugly, look at me, child, in this silver-coloured silk--I told you how it 'ud be--I look as yallow as a daffadil.Anybody 'ud say you wanted to make a mawkin of me.""No, Priscy, don't say so. I begged and prayed of you not to letus have this silk if you'd like another better. I was willing tohave your choice, you know I was," said Nancy, in anxiousself-vindication."Nonsense, child! you know you'd set your heart on this; andreason good, for you're the colour o' cream. It 'ud be fine doingsfor you to dress yourself to suit my skin. What I find faultwith, is that notion o' yours as I must dress myself just like you.But you do as you like with me--you always did, from when firstyou begun to walk. If you wanted to go the field's length, thefield's length you'd go; and there was no whipping you, for youlooked as prim and innicent as a daisy all the while.""Priscy," said Nancy, gently, as she fastened a coral necklace,exactly like her own, round Priscilla's neck, which was very farfrom being like her own, "I'm sure I'm willing to give way as faras is right, but who shouldn't dress alike if it isn't sisters?Would you have us go about looking as if we were no kin to oneanother--us that have got no mother and not another sister in theworld? I'd do what was right, if I dressed in a gown dyed withcheese-colouring; and I'd rather you'd choose, and let me wear whatpleases you.""There you go again! You'd come round to the same thing if onetalked to you from Saturday night till Saturday morning. It'll befine fun to see how you'll master your husband and never raise yourvoice above the singing o' the kettle all the while. I like to seethe men mastered!""Don't talk so, Priscy," said Nancy, blushing. "You know Idon't mean ever to be married.""Oh, you never mean a fiddlestick's end!" said Priscilla, as shearranged her discarded dress, and closed her bandbox. "Who shallI have to work for when father's gone, if you are to go and takenotions in your head and be an old maid, because some folks are nobetter than they should be? I haven't a bit o' patience with you--sitting on an addled egg for ever, as if there was never a fresh unin the world. One old maid's enough out o' two sisters; and I shalldo credit to a single life, for God A'mighty meant me for it. Come,we can go down now. I'm as ready as a mawkin can be--there'snothing awanting to frighten the crows, now I've got my ear-droppersin."As the two Miss Lammeters walked into the large parlour together,any one who did not know the character of both might certainly havesupposed that the reason why the square-shouldered, clumsy,high-featured Priscilla wore a dress the facsimile of her prettysister's, was either the mistaken vanity of the one, or themalicious contrivance of the other in order to set off her own rarebeauty. But the good-natured self-forgetful cheeriness andcommon-sense of Priscilla would soon have dissipated the onesuspicion; and the modest calm of Nancy's speech and manners toldclearly of a mind free from all disavowed devices.Places of honour had been kept for the Miss Lammeters near the headof the principal tea-table in the wainscoted parlour, now lookingfresh and pleasant with handsome branches of holly, yew, and laurel,from the abundant growths of the old garden; and Nancy felt aninward flutter, that no firmness of purpose could prevent, when shesaw Mr. Godfrey Cass advancing to lead her to a seat between himselfand Mr. Crackenthorp, while Priscilla was called to the oppositeside between her father and the Squire. It certainly did make somedifference to Nancy that the lover she had given up was the youngman of quite the highest consequence in the parish--at home in avenerable and unique parlour, which was the extremity of grandeur inher experience, a parlour where she might one day have beenmistress, with the consciousness that she was spoken of as "MadamCass", the Squire's wife. These circumstances exalted her inwarddrama in her own eyes, and deepened the emphasis with which shedeclared to herself that not the most dazzling rank should induceher to marry a man whose conduct showed him careless of hischaracter, but that, "love once, love always", was the motto of atrue and pure woman, and no man should ever have any right over herwhich would be a call on her to destroy the dried flowers that shetreasured, and always would treasure, for Godfrey Cass's sake. AndNancy was capable of keeping her word to herself under very tryingconditions. Nothing but a becoming blush betrayed the movingthoughts that urged themselves upon her as she accepted the seatnext to Mr. Crackenthorp; for she was so instinctively neat andadroit in all her actions, and her pretty lips met each other withsuch quiet firmness, that it would have been difficult for her toappear agitated.It was not the rector's practice to let a charming blush passwithout an appropriate compliment. He was not in the least lofty oraristocratic, but simply a merry-eyed, small-featured, grey-hairedman, with his chin propped by an ample, many-creased white neckclothwhich seemed to predominate over every other point in his person,and somehow to impress its peculiar character on his remarks; sothat to have considered his amenities apart from his cravat wouldhave been a severe, and perhaps a dangerous, effort of abstraction."Ha, Miss Nancy," he said, turning his head within his cravat andsmiling down pleasantly upon her, "when anybody pretends this hasbeen a severe winter, I shall tell them I saw the roses blooming onNew Year's Eve--eh, Godfrey, what do you say?"Godfrey made no reply, and avoided looking at Nancy very markedly;for though these complimentary personalities were held to be inexcellent taste in old-fashioned Raveloe society, reverent love hasa politeness of its own which it teaches to men otherwise of smallschooling. But the Squire was rather impatient at Godfrey's showinghimself a dull spark in this way. By this advanced hour of the day,the Squire was always in higher spirits than we have seen him in atthe breakfast-table, and felt it quite pleasant to fulfil thehereditary duty of being noisily jovial and patronizing: the largesilver snuff-box was in active service and was offered without failto all neighbours from time to time, however often they might havedeclined the favour. At present, the Squire had only given anexpress welcome to the heads of families as they appeared; butalways as the evening deepened, his hospitality rayed out morewidely, till he had tapped the youngest guests on the back and showna peculiar fondness for their presence, in the full belief that theymust feel their lives made happy by their belonging to a parishwhere there was such a hearty man as Squire Cass to invite them andwish them well. Even in this early stage of the jovial mood, it wasnatural that he should wish to supply his son's deficiencies bylooking and speaking for him."Aye, aye," he began, offering his snuff-box to Mr. Lammeter, whofor the second time bowed his head and waved his hand in stiffrejection of the offer, "us old fellows may wish ourselves youngto-night, when we see the mistletoe-bough in the White Parlour.It's true, most things are gone back'ard in these last thirty years--the country's going down since the old king fell ill. But when Ilook at Miss Nancy here, I begin to think the lasses keep up theirquality;--ding me if I remember a sample to match her, not when Iwas a fine young fellow, and thought a deal about my pigtail. Nooffence to you, madam," he added, bending to Mrs. Crackenthorp, whosat by him, "I didn't know you when you were as young as MissNancy here."Mrs. Crackenthorp--a small blinking woman, who fidgetedincessantly with her lace, ribbons, and gold chain, turning her headabout and making subdued noises, very much like a guinea-pig thattwitches its nose and soliloquizes in all company indiscriminately--now blinked and fidgeted towards the Squire, and said, "Oh, no--no offence."This emphatic compliment of the Squire's to Nancy was felt by othersbesides Godfrey to have a diplomatic significance; and her fathergave a slight additional erectness to his back, as he looked acrossthe table at her with complacent gravity. That grave and orderlysenior was not going to bate a jot of his dignity by seeming elatedat the notion of a match between his family and the Squire's: he wasgratified by any honour paid to his daughter; but he must see analteration in several ways before his consent would be vouchsafed.His spare but healthy person, and high-featured firm face, thatlooked as if it had never been flushed by excess, was in strongcontrast, not only with the Squire's, but with the appearance of theRaveloe farmers generally--in accordance with a favourite sayingof his own, that "breed was stronger than pasture"."Miss Nancy's wonderful like what her mother was, though; isn'tshe, Kimble?" said the stout lady of that name, looking round forher husband.But Doctor Kimble (country apothecaries in old days enjoyed thattitle without authority of diploma), being a thin and agile man, wasflitting about the room with his hands in his pockets, makinghimself agreeable to his feminine patients, with medicalimpartiality, and being welcomed everywhere as a doctor byhereditary right--not one of those miserable apothecaries whocanvass for practice in strange neighbourhoods, and spend all theirincome in starving their one horse, but a man of substance, able tokeep an extravagant table like the best of his patients. Time outof mind the Raveloe doctor had been a Kimble; Kimble was inherentlya doctor's name; and it was difficult to contemplate firmly themelancholy fact that the actual Kimble had no son, so that hispractice might one day be handed over to a successor with theincongruous name of Taylor or Johnson. But in that case the wiserpeople in Raveloe would employ Dr. Blick of Flitton--as lessunnatural."Did you speak to me, my dear?" said the authentic doctor, comingquickly to his wife's side; but, as if foreseeing that she would betoo much out of breath to repeat her remark, he went on immediately--"Ha, Miss Priscilla, the sight of you revives the taste of thatsuper-excellent pork-pie. I hope the batch isn't near an end.""Yes, indeed, it is, doctor," said Priscilla; "but I'll answerfor it the next shall be as good. My pork-pies don't turn out wellby chance.""Not as your doctoring does, eh, Kimble?--because folks forgetto take your physic, eh?" said the Squire, who regarded physic anddoctors as many loyal churchmen regard the church and the clergy--tasting a joke against them when he was in health, but impatientlyeager for their aid when anything was the matter with him. Hetapped his box, and looked round with a triumphant laugh."Ah, she has a quick wit, my friend Priscilla has," said thedoctor, choosing to attribute the epigram to a lady rather thanallow a brother-in-law that advantage over him. "She saves alittle pepper to sprinkle over her talk--that's the reason why shenever puts too much into her pies. There's my wife now, she neverhas an answer at her tongue's end; but if I offend her, she's sureto scarify my throat with black pepper the next day, or else give methe colic with watery greens. That's an awful tit-for-tat." Herethe vivacious doctor made a pathetic grimace."Did you ever hear the like?" said Mrs. Kimble, laughing aboveher double chin with much good-humour, aside to Mrs. Crackenthorp,who blinked and nodded, and seemed to intend a smile, which, by thecorrelation of forces, went off in small twitchings and noises."I suppose that's the sort of tit-for-tat adopted in yourprofession, Kimble, if you've a grudge against a patient," said therector."Never do have a grudge against our patients," said Mr. Kimble,"except when they leave us: and then, you see, we haven't thechance of prescribing for 'em. Ha, Miss Nancy," he continued,suddenly skipping to Nancy's side, "you won't forget your promise?You're to save a dance for me, you know.""Come, come, Kimble, don't you be too for'ard," said the Squire."Give the young uns fair-play. There's my son Godfrey'll bewanting to have a round with you if you run off with Miss Nancy.He's bespoke her for the first dance, I'll be bound. Eh, sir! whatdo you say?" he continued, throwing himself backward, and lookingat Godfrey. "Haven't you asked Miss Nancy to open the dance withyou?"Godfrey, sorely uncomfortable under this significant insistenceabout Nancy, and afraid to think where it would end by the time hisfather had set his usual hospitable example of drinking before andafter supper, saw no course open but to turn to Nancy and say, withas little awkwardness as possible--"No; I've not asked her yet, but I hope she'll consent--ifsomebody else hasn't been before me.""No, I've not engaged myself," said Nancy, quietly, thoughblushingly. (If Mr. Godfrey founded any hopes on her consenting todance with him, he would soon be undeceived; but there was no needfor her to be uncivil.)"Then I hope you've no objections to dancing with me," saidGodfrey, beginning to lose the sense that there was anythinguncomfortable in this arrangement."No, no objections," said Nancy, in a cold tone."Ah, well, you're a lucky fellow, Godfrey," said uncle Kimble;"but you're my godson, so I won't stand in your way. Else I'm notso very old, eh, my dear?" he went on, skipping to his wife's sideagain. "You wouldn't mind my having a second after you were gone--not if I cried a good deal first?""Come, come, take a cup o' tea and stop your tongue, do," saidgood-humoured Mrs. Kimble, feeling some pride in a husband who mustbe regarded as so clever and amusing by the company generally. Ifhe had only not been irritable at cards!While safe, well-tested personalities were enlivening the tea inthis way, the sound of the fiddle approaching within a distance atwhich it could be heard distinctly, made the young people look ateach other with sympathetic impatience for the end of the meal."Why, there's Solomon in the hall," said the Squire, "and playingmy fav'rite tune, I believe--"The flaxen-headed ploughboy"--he's for giving us a hint as we aren't enough in a hurry to hear himplay. Bob," he called out to his third long-legged son, who was atthe other end of the room, "open the door, and tell Solomon to comein. He shall give us a tune here."Bob obeyed, and Solomon walked in, fiddling as he walked, for hewould on no account break off in the middle of a tune."Here, Solomon," said the Squire, with loud patronage. "Roundhere, my man. Ah, I knew it was "The flaxen-headed ploughboy":there's no finer tune."Solomon Macey, a small hale old man with an abundant crop of longwhite hair reaching nearly to his shoulders, advanced to theindicated spot, bowing reverently while he fiddled, as much as tosay that he respected the company, though he respected the key-notemore. As soon as he had repeated the tune and lowered his fiddle,he bowed again to the Squire and the rector, and said, "I hope Isee your honour and your reverence well, and wishing you health andlong life and a happy New Year. And wishing the same to you,Mr. Lammeter, sir; and to the other gentlemen, and the madams, andthe young lasses."As Solomon uttered the last words, he bowed in all directionssolicitously, lest he should be wanting in due respect. Butthereupon he immediately began to prelude, and fell into the tunewhich he knew would be taken as a special compliment byMr. Lammeter."Thank ye, Solomon, thank ye," said Mr. Lammeter when the fiddlepaused again. "That's "Over the hills and far away", that is. Myfather used to say to me, whenever we heard that tune, "Ah, lad, Icome from over the hills and far away." There's a many tunes Idon't make head or tail of; but that speaks to me like theblackbird's whistle. I suppose it's the name: there's a deal in thename of a tune."But Solomon was already impatient to prelude again, and presentlybroke with much spirit into "Sir Roger de Coverley", at whichthere was a sound of chairs pushed back, and laughing voices."Aye, aye, Solomon, we know what that means," said the Squire,rising. "It's time to begin the dance, eh? Lead the way, then,and we'll all follow you."So Solomon, holding his white head on one side, and playingvigorously, marched forward at the head of the gay procession intothe White Parlour, where the mistletoe-bough was hung, andmultitudinous tallow candles made rather a brilliant effect,gleaming from among the berried holly-boughs, and reflected in theold-fashioned oval mirrors fastened in the panels of the whitewainscot. A quaint procession! Old Solomon, in his seedy clothesand long white locks, seemed to be luring that decent company by themagic scream of his fiddle--luring discreet matrons inturban-shaped caps, nay, Mrs. Crackenthorp herself, the summit ofwhose perpendicular feather was on a level with the Squire'sshoulder--luring fair lasses complacently conscious of very shortwaists and skirts blameless of front-folds--luring burly fathersin large variegated waistcoats, and ruddy sons, for the most partshy and sheepish, in short nether garments and very long coat-tails.Already Mr. Macey and a few other privileged villagers, who wereallowed to be spectators on these great occasions, were seated onbenches placed for them near the door; and great was the admirationand satisfaction in that quarter when the couples had formedthemselves for the dance, and the Squire led off withMrs. Crackenthorp, joining hands with the rector and Mrs. Osgood.That was as it should be--that was what everybody had been used to--and the charter of Raveloe seemed to be renewed by the ceremony.It was not thought of as an unbecoming levity for the old andmiddle-aged people to dance a little before sitting down to cards,but rather as part of their social duties. For what were these ifnot to be merry at appropriate times, interchanging visits andpoultry with due frequency, paying each other old-establishedcompliments in sound traditional phrases, passing well-triedpersonal jokes, urging your guests to eat and drink too much out ofhospitality, and eating and drinking too much in your neighbour'shouse to show that you liked your cheer? And the parson naturallyset an example in these social duties. For it would not have beenpossible for the Raveloe mind, without a peculiar revelation, toknow that a clergyman should be a pale-faced memento of solemnities,instead of a reasonably faulty man whose exclusive authority to readprayers and preach, to christen, marry, and bury you, necessarilycoexisted with the right to sell you the ground to be buried in andto take tithe in kind; on which last point, of course, there was alittle grumbling, but not to the extent of irreligion--not ofdeeper significance than the grumbling at the rain, which was by nomeans accompanied with a spirit of impious defiance, but with adesire that the prayer for fine weather might be read forthwith.There was no reason, then, why the rector's dancing should not bereceived as part of the fitness of things quite as much as theSquire's, or why, on the other hand, Mr. Macey's official respectshould restrain him from subjecting the parson's performance to thatcriticism with which minds of extraordinary acuteness mustnecessarily contemplate the doings of their fallible fellow-men."The Squire's pretty springe, considering his weight," saidMr. Macey, "and he stamps uncommon well. But Mr. Lammeter beats'em all for shapes: you see he holds his head like a sodger, and heisn't so cushiony as most o' the oldish gentlefolks--they run fatin general; and he's got a fine leg. The parson's nimble enough,but he hasn't got much of a leg: it's a bit too thick down'ard, andhis knees might be a bit nearer wi'out damage; but he might doworse, he might do worse. Though he hasn't that grand way o' wavinghis hand as the Squire has.""Talk o' nimbleness, look at Mrs. Osgood," said Ben Winthrop, whowas holding his son Aaron between his knees. "She trips along withher little steps, so as nobody can see how she goes--it's like asif she had little wheels to her feet. She doesn't look a day oldernor last year: she's the finest-made woman as is, let the next bewhere she will.""I don't heed how the women are made," said Mr. Macey, with somecontempt. "They wear nayther coat nor breeches: you can't makemuch out o' their shapes.""Fayder," said Aaron, whose feet were busy beating out the tune,"how does that big cock's-feather stick in Mrs. Crackenthorp'syead? Is there a little hole for it, like in my shuttle-cock?""Hush, lad, hush; that's the way the ladies dress theirselves, thatis," said the father, adding, however, in an undertone toMr. Macey, "It does make her look funny, though--partly like ashort-necked bottle wi' a long quill in it. Hey, by jingo, there'sthe young Squire leading off now, wi' Miss Nancy for partners!There's a lass for youthere'snobody 'ud think as anybody could be so pritty. I shouldn't wonderif she's Madam Cass some day, arter all--and nobody morerightfuller, for they'd make a fine match. You can find nothingagainst Master Godfrey's shapes, Macey, I'll bet a penny."Mr. Macey screwed up his mouth, leaned his head further on one side,and twirled his thumbs with a presto movement as his eyes followedGodfrey up the dance. At last he summed up his opinion."Pretty well down'ard, but a bit too round i' the shoulder-blades.And as for them coats as he gets from the Flitton tailor, they're apoor cut to pay double money for.""Ah, Mr. Macey, you and me are two folks," said Ben, slightlyindignant at this carping. "When I've got a pot o' good ale, Ilike to swaller it, and do my inside good, i'stead o' smelling andstaring at it to see if I can't find faut wi' the brewing. I shouldlike you to pick me out a finer-limbed young fellow nor MasterGodfrey--one as 'ud knock you down easier, or 's morepleasanter-looksed when he's piert and merry.""Tchuh!" said Mr. Macey, provoked to increased severity, "heisn't come to his right colour yet: he's partly like a slack-bakedpie. And I doubt he's got a soft place in his head, else why shouldhe be turned round the finger by that offal Dunsey as nobody's seeno' late, and let him kill that fine hunting hoss as was the talk o'the country? And one while he was allays after Miss Nancy, and thenit all went off again, like a smell o' hot porridge, as I may say.That wasn't my way when I went a-coorting.""Ah, but mayhap Miss Nancy hung off, like, and your lass didn't,"said Ben."I should say she didn't," said Mr. Macey, significantly."Before I said "sniff", I took care to know as she'd say "snaff",and pretty quick too. I wasn't a-going to open my mouth, like adog at a fly, and snap it to again, wi' nothing to swaller.""Well, I think Miss Nancy's a-coming round again," said Ben, "forMaster Godfrey doesn't look so down-hearted to-night. And I seehe's for taking her away to sit down, now they're at the end o' thedance: that looks like sweethearting, that does."The reason why Godfrey and Nancy had left the dance was not sotender as Ben imagined. In the close press of couples a slightaccident had happened to Nancy's dress, which, while it was shortenough to show her neat ankle in front, was long enough behind to becaught under the stately stamp of the Squire's foot, so as to rendcertain stitches at the waist, and cause much sisterly agitation inPriscilla's mind, as well as serious concern in Nancy's. One'sthoughts may be much occupied with love-struggles, but hardly so asto be insensible to a disorder in the general framework of things.Nancy had no sooner completed her duty in the figure they weredancing than she said to Godfrey, with a deep blush, that she mustgo and sit down till Priscilla could come to her; for the sistershad already exchanged a short whisper and an open-eyed glance fullof meaning. No reason less urgent than this could have prevailed onNancy to give Godfrey this opportunity of sitting apart with her.As for Godfrey, he was feeling so happy and oblivious under the longcharm of the country-dance with Nancy, that he got rather bold onthe strength of her confusion, and was capable of leading herstraight away, without leave asked, into the adjoining smallparlour, where the card-tables were set."Oh no, thank you," said Nancy, coldly, as soon as she perceivedwhere he was going, "not in there. I'll wait here till Priscilla'sready to come to me. I'm sorry to bring you out of the dance andmake myself troublesome.""Why, you'll be more comfortable here by yourself," said theartful Godfrey: "I'll leave you here till your sister can come."He spoke in an indifferent tone.That was an agreeable proposition, and just what Nancy desired; why,then, was she a little hurt that Mr. Godfrey should make it? Theyentered, and she seated herself on a chair against one of thecard-tables, as the stiffest and most unapproachable position shecould choose."Thank you, sir," she said immediately. "I needn't give you anymore trouble. I'm sorry you've had such an unlucky partner.""That's very ill-natured of you," said Godfrey, standing by herwithout any sign of intended departure, "to be sorry you've dancedwith me.""Oh, no, sir, I don't mean to say what's ill-natured at all," saidNancy, looking distractingly prim and pretty. "When gentlemen haveso many pleasures, one dance can matter but very little.""You know that isn't true. You know one dance with you mattersmore to me than all the other pleasures in the world."It was a long, long while since Godfrey had said anything so directas that, and Nancy was startled. But her instinctive dignity andrepugnance to any show of emotion made her sit perfectly still, andonly throw a little more decision into her voice, as she said--"No, indeed, Mr. Godfrey, that's not known to me, and I have verygood reasons for thinking different. But if it's true, I don't wishto hear it.""Would you never forgive me, then, Nancy--never think well of me,let what would happen--would you never think the present madeamends for the past? Not if I turned a good fellow, and gave upeverything you didn't like?"Godfrey was half conscious that this sudden opportunity of speakingto Nancy alone had driven him beside himself; but blind feeling hadgot the mastery of his tongue. Nancy really felt much agitated bythe possibility Godfrey's words suggested, but this very pressure ofemotion that she was in danger of finding too strong for her rousedall her power of self-command."I should be glad to see a good change in anybody, Mr. Godfrey,"she answered, with the slightest discernible difference of tone,"but it 'ud be better if no change was wanted.""You're very hard-hearted, Nancy," said Godfrey, pettishly. "Youmight encourage me to be a better fellow. I'm very miserable--butyou've no feeling.""I think those have the least feeling that act wrong to beginwith," said Nancy, sending out a flash in spite of herself.Godfrey was delighted with that little flash, and would have likedto go on and make her quarrel with him; Nancy was so exasperatinglyquiet and firm. But she was not indifferent to him yet, though--The entrance of Priscilla, bustling forward and saying, "Dear heartalive, child, let us look at this gown," cut off Godfrey's hopes ofa quarrel."I suppose I must go now," he said to Priscilla."It's no matter to me whether you go or stay," said that franklady, searching for something in her pocket, with a preoccupiedbrow."Do you want me to go?" said Godfrey, looking at Nancy, who wasnow standing up by Priscilla's order."As you like," said Nancy, trying to recover all her formercoldness, and looking down carefully at the hem of her gown."Then I like to stay," said Godfrey, with a reckless determinationto get as much of this joy as he could to-night, and think nothingof the morrow.