Herethestoryisbrokenoff，anditcanneverbefinished。Whatpromisedtobe
thecrowningworkofalifeisamemorialofdeath。Afewdayslonger，anditwouldhavebeenatriumphalcolumn，crownedwithacapitaloffestalleavesandflowers：nowitisanothersortofcolumn—oneofthosesadwhitepillarswhichstandbrokeninthechurchyard。
Butiftheworkisnotquitecomplete，littleremainstobeaddedtoit，andthatlittlehasbeendistinctlyreflectedintoourminds。WeknowthatRogerHamleywillmarryMolly，andthatiswhatwearemostconcernedabout。Indeed，therewaslittleelsetotell。Hadthewriterlived，shewouldhavesentherherobacktoAfricaforthwith；andthosescientificpartsofAfricaarealongwayfromHamley；andthereisnotmuchtochoosebetweenalongdistanceandalongtime。Howmanyhoursarethereintwenty—fourwhenyouareallaloneinadesertplace，athousandmilesfromthehappinesswhichmightbeyourstotake—ifyouweretheretotakeit？Howmany，whenfromthesourcesoftheTopinamboyourheartfliesbacktentimesaday，likeacarrier—pigeon，totheoneonlysourceoffuturegoodforyou，andtentimesadayreturnswithitsmessageundelivered？Manymorethanarecountedonthecalendar。SoRogerfound。ThedayswereweeksthatseparatedhimfromthetimewhenMollygavehimacertainlittleflower，andmonthsfromthetimewhichdivorcedhimfromCynthia，whomhehadbeguntodoubtbeforeheknewforcertainthatshewasnevermuchworthhopingfor。Andifsuchwerehisdays，whatwastheslowprocessionofactualweeksandmonthsinthoseremoteandsolitaryplaces？Theywerelikeyearsofastay—at—homelife，withlibertyandleisuretoseethatnobodywascourtingMollymeanwhile。Theeffectofthiswas，thatlongbeforethetermofhisengagementwasendedallthatCynthiahadbeentohimwasdepartedfromRoger’smind，andallthatMollywasandmightbetohimfilleditfull。
Hereturned；butwhenhesawMollyagainherememberedthattoherthetimeofhisabsencemightnothaveseemedsolong，andwasoppressedwiththeolddreadthatshewouldthinkhimfickle。Thereforethisyounggentleman，soself—reliantandsolucidinscientificmatters，founditdifficultafteralltotellMollyhowmuchhehopedshelovedhim；andmighthaveblunderedifhehadnotthoughtofbeginningbyshowinghertheflowerthatwaspluckedfromthenosegay。Howcharminglythatscenewouldhavebeendrawn，hadMrsGaskelllivedtodepictit，wecanonlyimagine：thatitwouldhavebeencharming—especiallyinwhatMollydid，andlooked，andsaid—weknow。
RogerandMollyaremarried；andifoneofthemishappierthantheother，itisMolly。HerhusbandhasnoneedtodrawuponthelittlefortunewhichistogotopoorOsborne’sboy，forhebecomesprofessoratsomegreyscientificinstitution，andwinshiswayintheworldhandsomely。
Thesquireisalmostashappyinthismarriageashisson。Ifanyonesuffersforit，itisMrGibson。Buthetakesapartner，soastogetachanceofrunninguptoLondontostaywithMollyforafewdaysnowandthen，and’togetalittlerestfromMrsGibson。’OfwhatwastohappentoCynthiaafterhermarriagetheauthorwasnotheardtosaymuch，and，indeed，itdoesnotseemthatanythingneedstobeadded。Onelittleanecdote，however，wastoldofherbyMrsGaskell，whichisverycharacteristic。Oneday，whenCynthiaandherhusbandwereonavisittoHollingford，MrHendersonlearnedforthefirsttime，throughaninnocentcasualremarkofMrGibson’s，thatthefamoustraveller，RogerHamley，wasknowntothefamily。Cynthiahadneverhappenedtomentionit。Howwellthatlittleincident，too，wouldhavebeendescribed！
ButitisuselesstospeculateuponwhatwouldhavebeendonebythedelicatestronghandwhichcancreatenomoreMollyGibsons—nomoreRogerHamleys。Wehaverepeated，inthisbriefnote，allthatisknownofherdesignsforthestory，whichwouldhavebeencompletedinanotherchapter。
Thereisnotsomuchtoregret，then，sofarasthisnovelisconcerned；
indeed，theregretsofthosewhoknewherarelessforthelossofthenovelistthanofthewoman—oneofthekindestandwisestofhertime。
Butyet，forherownsakeasanovelistalone，heruntimelydeathisamatterfordeepregret。ItisclearinthisnovelofWivesandDaughters，intheexquisitelittlestorythatprecededit，CousinPhillis，andinSylvia’sLovers，thatMrsGaskellhadwithinthesefiveyearsstarteduponanewcareerwithallthefreshnessofyouth，andwithamindwhichseemedtohaveputoffitsclayandtohavebeenbornagain。Butthat’putoffitsclay’mustbetakeninaverynarrowsense。Allmindsaretincturedmoreorlesswiththe’muddyvesture’inwhichtheyarecontained；butfewmindsevershowedlessofbaseearththanMrsGaskell’s。Itwassoatalltimes；butlatelyeventheoriginalslighttinctureseemedtodisappear。Whileyoureadanyoneofthelastthreebookswehavenamed，youfeelyourselfcaughtoutofanabominablewickedworld，crawlingwithselfishnessandreekingwithbasepassions，intoonewherethereismuchweakness，manymistakes，sufferingslongandbitter，butwhereitispossibleforpeopletolivecalmandwholesomelives。and，whatismore，youfeelthatthisisatleastasrealaworldastheother。Thekindlyspiritwhichthinksnoilllooksoutofherpagesirradiate；andwhilewereadthem，webreathethepurerintelligencewhichpreferstodealwithemotionsandpassionswhichhavealivingrootinmindswithinthepaleofsalvation，andnotwiththosewhichrotwithoutit。ThisspiritismoreespeciallydeclaredinCousinPhillisandWivesandDaughters—theirauthor’slatestworks；theyseemtoshowthatforhertheendoflifewasnotdescentamongsttheclodsofthevalley，butascentintothepurerairoftheheaven—aspiringhills。
Wearesayingnothingnowofthemerelyintellectualqualitiesdisplayedintheselaterworks。Twentyyearstocome，thatmaybethoughtthemoreimportantquestionofthetwo；inthepresenceofhergravewecannotthinkso；butitistrue，allthesame，thatasmereworksofartandobservation，theselaternovelsofMrsGaskell’sareamongthefinestofourtime。ThereisasceneinCousinPhillis—whereHolman，makinghaywithhismen，endsthedaywithapsalm—whichisnotexcelledasapictureinallmodernfiction；andthesamemaybesaidofthatchapterofthislaststoryinwhichRogersmokesapipewiththeSquireafterthequarrelwithOsborne。Thereislittleineitherofthesescenes，orinascoreofotherswhichsucceedeachotherlikegemsinacabinet，whichtheordinarynovel—makercould’seize。’Thereisno’material’forhiminhalf—a—dozenfarmingmensinginghymnsinafield，oradiscontentedoldgentlemansmokingtobaccowithhisson。Stilllesscouldheavailhimselfofthemiseriesofalittlegirlsenttobehappyinafinehousefulloffinepeople：butitisjustinsuchthingsasthesethattruegeniusappearsbrightestandmostunapproachable。
Itisthesamewiththepersonages。inMrsGaskell’sworks。Cynthiaisoneofthemostdifficultcharacterswhichhaveeverbeenattemptedinourtime。Perfectartalwaysobscuresthedifficultiesitovercomes；anditisnottillwetrytofollowtheprocessesbywhichsuchacharacterastheTitoofRomolaiscreated，forinstance，thatwebegintounderstandwhatamarvellouspieceofworkitis。Tobesure，Cynthiawasnotsodifficult，norisitnearlysogreatacreationasthatsplendidachievementofartandthought—oftherarestart，oftheprofoundestthought。Butshealsobelongstothekindofcharacterswhichareconceivedonlyinmindslarge，clear，harmoniousandjust，andwhichcanbeportrayedfullyandwithoutflawonlybyhandsobedienttothefinestmotionsofthemind。Viewedinthislight，CynthiaisamoreimportantpieceofworkeventhanMolly，delicatelyassheisdrawn，andtrueandharmoniousasthatpictureisalso。AndwhatwehavesaidofCynthiamaybesaidwithequaltruthofOsborneHamley。Thetruedelineationofacharacterlikethatisasfineatestofartasthepaintingofafootorahand，whichalsoseemssoeasy，andinwhichperfectionismostrare。Inthiscasetheworkisperfect。MrsGaskellhaddrawnadozencharactersmorestrikingthanOsbornesinceshewroteMaryBartonbutnotonewhichshowsmoreexquisitefinish。
Anotherthingwemaybepermittedtonotice，becauseithasagreatandgeneralsignificance。Itmaybetruethatthisisnotexactlytheplaceforcriticism，butsincewearewritingofOsborneHamley，wecannotresistpointingoutapeculiarinstanceofthesubtlerconceptionswhichunderlieallreallyconsiderableworks。HereareOsborneandRoger，twomenwho，ineveryparticularthatcanbeseizedfordescription，aretotallydifferentcreatures。Bodyandmindtheyarequiteunlike。Theyhavedifferenttastes；theytakedifferentways：theyaremenoftwosortswhich，inthesocietysense，never’know’eachother；andyet，neverdidbrotherlybloodrunmoremanifestthanintheveinsofthosetwo。Tomakethatmanifestwithoutallowingtheefforttopeepoutforasinglemoment，wouldbeatriumphofart；butitisa’touchbeyondthereachofart’tomaketheirlikenessinunlikenesssonaturalathingthatwenomorewonderaboutitthanwewonderatseeingthefruitandthebloomonthesamebramble：
wehavealwaysseenthemtheretogetherinblackberryseason，anddonotwonderaboutitnorthinkaboutitatall。Inferiorwriters，evensomewriterswhoarehighlyaccounted，wouldhaverevelledinthe’contrast。’
persuadedthattheyweredoingafineanatomicaldramaticthingbybringingitoutateveryopportunity。TotheauthorofWivesandDaughtersthissortofanatomywasmeredislocation。Shebeganbyhavingthepeopleofherstorybornintheusualway，andnotbuiltupliketheFrankensteinmonster；andthuswhenSquireHamleytookawife，itwasthenprovidedthathistwoboysshouldbeasnaturallyoneanddiverseasthefruitandthebloomonthebramble。’Itgoeswithoutspeaking。’ThesedifferencesarepreciselywhatmighthavebeenexpectedfromtheunionofSquireHamleywiththetown—bred，refined，delicate—mindedwomanwhomhemarried；andtheaffectionoftheyoungmen，theirkind—ness（tousethewordinitsoldandnewmeaningsatonce）isnothingbutareproductionofthoseimpalpablethreadsoflovewhichboundtheequallydiversefatherandmotherinbondsfasterthanthetiesofblood。
Butwewillnotpermitourselvestowriteanymoreinthisvein。ItisunnecessarytodemonstratetothosewhoknowwhatisandwhatisnottrueliteraturethatMrsGaskellwasgiftedwithsomeofthechoicestfacultiesbestoweduponmankind；thatthesegrewintogreaterstrengthandripenedintogreaterbeautyinthedeclineofherdays；andthatshehasgifteduswithsomethetruest，purestworksoffictioninthelanguage。Andshewasherselfwhatherworksshowhertohavebeen—awise，goodwoman。
—[ED。，C。M。]
EditedbyFrederickGreenwood。
TheEndchapter01ELIZABETHGASKELLWIVESANDDAUGHTERSPARTI（ChaptersI—X）CHAPTERITHEDAWNOFAGALADAYTobeginwiththeoldrigmaroleofchildhood。Inacountrytherewasashire，andinthatshiretherewasatown，andinthattowntherewasahouse，andinthathousetherewasaroom，andinthatroomtherewasabed，andinthatbedtherelayalittlegirl；wideawakeandlongingtogetup，butnotdaringtodosoforfearoftheunseenpowerinthenextroom—acertainBetty，whoseslumbersmustnotbedisturbeduntilsixo’clockstruck，whenshewakenedofherself’assureasclockwork’，andleftthehouseholdverylittlepeaceafterwards。ItwasaJunemorning，andearlyasitwas，theroomwasfullofsunnywarmthandlight。OnthedrawersoppositetothelittlewhitedimitybedinwhichMollyGibsonlay，wasaprimitivekindofbonnet—standonwhichwashungabonnet，carefullycoveredoverfromanychanceofdust，withalargecottonhandkerchief，ofsoheavyandserviceableatexturethatifthethingunderneathithadbeenaflimsyfabricofgauzeandlaceandflowers，itwouldhavebeenaltogether’scromfished’（againtoquotefromBetty’svocabulary）。Butthebonnetwasmadeofsolidstraw，anditsonlytrimmingwasaplainwhiteribbonputoverthecrown，andformingthestrings。Still，therewasaneatlittlequillinginside，everyplaitofwhichMollyknew，forhadshenotmadeitherselftheeveningbefore，withinfinitepains？andwastherenotalittlebluebowinthisquilling，theveryfirstbitofsuchfineryMollyhadeverhadtheprospectofwearing？Sixo’clocknow！thepleasant，briskringingofthechurchbellstoldthat；
callingeveryonetotheirdailywork，astheyhaddoneforhundredsofyears。UpjumpedMolly，andranwithherbarelittlefeetacrosstheroom，andliftedoffthehandkerchiefandsawonceagainthebonnet；thepledgeofthegaybrightdaytocome。Thentothewindow，andaftersometuggingsheopenedthecasement，andletinthesweetmorningair。Thedewwasalreadyofftheflowersinthegardenbelow，butstillrisingfromthelonghay—grassinthemeadowsdirectlybeyond。AtonesidelaythelittletownofHollingford，intoastreetofwhichMr。Gibson’sfrontdooropened；
anddelicatecolumns，andlittlepuffsofsmokewerealreadybeginningtorisefrommanyacottagechimneywheresomehousewifewasalreadyup，andpreparingbreakfastforthebread—winnerofthefamily。MollyGibsonsawallthis，butallshethoughtaboutitwas，’Oh！itwillbeafineday！Iwasafraiditnever，neverwouldcome；orthat，ifitevercame，itwouldbearainyday！’Five—and—fortyyearsago，children’spleasuresinacountrytownwereverysimple，andMollyhadlivedfortwelvelongyearswithouttheoccurrenceofanyeventsogreatasthatwhichwasnowimpending。Poorchild！itistruethatshehadlosthermother，whichwasajartothewholetenourofherlife；butthatwashardlyaneventinthesensereferredto；andbesides，shehadbeentooyoungtobeconsciousofitatthetime。Thepleasureshewaslookingforwardtoto—daywasherfirstshareinakindofannualfestivalinHollingford。Thelittlestragglingtownfadedawayintocountryononesideclosetotheentrance—lodgeofagreatpark，wherelivedmyLordandLadyCumnor’theearl’and’thecountess’，astheywerealwayscalledbytheinhabitantsofthetown；whereaveryprettyamountoffeudalfeelingstilllingered，andshoweditselfinanumberofsimpleways，drollenoughtolookbackupon，butseriousmattersofimportanceatthetime。ItwasbeforethepassingoftheReformBill，butagooddealofliberaltalktookplaceoccasionallybetweentwoorthreeofthemoreenlightenedfreeholderslivinginHollingford；andtherewasagreatToryfamilyinthecountywho，fromtimetotime，cameforwardandcontestedtheelectionwiththerivalWhigfamilyofCumnor。Onewouldhavethoughtthattheabove—mentionedliberal—talkinginhabitantswouldhave，atleast，admittedthepossibilityoftheirvotingfortheHely—Harrison，andthustryingtovindicatetheirindependenceButnosuchthing。’Theearl’waslordofthemanor，andownerofmuchofthelandonwhichHollingfordwasbuilt；heandhishouseholdwerefed，anddoctored，and，toacertainmeasure，clothedbythegoodpeopleofthetown；theirfathers’grandfathershadalwaysvotedfortheeldestsonofCumnorTowers，andfollowingintheancestraltrackeveryman—jackintheplacegavehisvotetotheliegelord，totallyirrespectiveofsuchchimerasaspoliticalopinion。Thiswasnounusualinstanceoftheinfluenceofthegreatlandownersoverhumblerneighboursinthosedaysbeforerailways，anditwaswellforaplacewherethepowerfulfamily，whothusovershadowedit，wereofsorespectableacharacterastheCumnors。Theyexpectedtobesubmittedto，andobeyed；
thesimpleworshipofthetownspeoplewasacceptedbytheearlandcountessasaright；andtheywouldhavestoodstillinamazement，andwithahorridmemoryoftheFrenchsansculotteswhowerethebugbearsoftheiryouth，hadanyinhabitantofHollingfordventuredtosethiswilloropinionsinoppositiontothoseoftheearl。But，yieldedallthatobeisance，theydidagooddealforthetown，andweregenerallycondescending，andoftenthoughtfulandkindintheirtreatmentoftheirvassals。LordCumnorwasaforbearinglandlord；puttinghisstewardalittleononesidesometimes，andtakingthereinsintohisownhandsnowandthen，muchtotheannoyanceoftheagent，whowas，infact，toorichandindependenttocaregreatlyforpreservingapostwherehisdecisionsmightanydaybeoverturnedbymylord’stakingafancytogo’pottering’（astheagentirreverentlyexpresseditinthesanctuaryofhisownhome），which，beinginterpreted，meantthatoccasionallytheearlaskedhisownquestionsofhisowntenants，andusedhisowneyesandearsinthemanagementofthesmallerdetailsofhisproperty。
Buthistenantslikedmylordallthebetterforthishabitofhis。LordCumnorhadcertainlyalittletimeforgossip，whichhecontrivedtocombinewiththefailingofpersonalinterventionbetweentheoldland—stewardandthetenantry。But，then，thecountessmadeupbyherunapproachabledignityforthisweaknessoftheearl’s。Onceayearshewascondescending。
Sheandtheladies，herdaughters，hadsetupaschool；
notaschoolafterthemannerofschoolsnow—a—days，wherefarbetterintellectualteachingisgiventotheboysandgirlsoflabourersandworkpeoplethanoftenfallstothelotoftheirbettersinworldlyestate；butaschoolofthekindweshouldcall’industrial’，wheregirlsaretaughttosewbeautifully，tobecapitalhousemaids，andprettyfaircooks，and，aboveall，todressneatlyinakindofcharityuniformdevisedbytheladiesofCumnorTowers；—whitecaps，whitetippets，checkaprons，bluegowns，andreadycurtseys，and’please，ma’ams’，beingderigueur。Now，asthecountesswasabsentfromtheTowersforaconsiderablepartoftheyear，shewasgladtoenlistthesympathyoftheHollingfordladiesinthisschool，withaviewtoobtainingtheiraidasvisitorsduringthemanymonthsthatsheandherdaughterswereaway。Andthevariousunoccupiedgentlewomenofthetownrespondedtothecalloftheirliegelady，andgavehertheirserviceasrequired；andalongwithit，agreatdealofwhisperedandfussyadmiration。’Howgoodofthecountess！
Solikethedearcountess—alwaysthinkingofothers！’andsoon；whileitwasalwayssupposedthatnostrangershadseenHollingfordproperly，unlesstheyhadbeentakentothecountess’sschool，andbeendulyimpressedbytheneatlittlepupils，andthestillneaterneedleworktheretobeinspected。Inreturn，therewasadayofhonoursetaparteverysummer，whenwithmuchgraciousandstatelyhospitality，LadyCumnorandherdaughtersreceivedalltheschoolvisitorsattheTowers，thegreatfamilymansionstandinginaristocraticseclusioninthecentreofthelargepark，ofwhichoneofthelodgeswasclosetothelittletown。Theorderofthisannualfestivitywasthis。Aboutteno’clockoneoftheTowers’carriagesrolledthroughthelodge，anddrovetodifferenthouses，whereindweltawomantobehonoured；pickingthemupbyonesortwos，tilltheloadedcarriagedrovebackagainthroughthereadyportals，bowledalongthesmoothtree—shadedroad，anddepositeditscoveyofsmartly—dressedladiesonthegreatflightofstepsleadingtotheponderousdoorsofCumnorTowers。
Backagaintothetown；anotherpickingupofwomankindintheirbestclothes，andanotherreturn，andsoontillthewholepartywereassembledeitherinthehouseorinthereallybeautifulgardens。Aftertheproperamountofexhibitionontheonepart，andadmirationontheother，hadbeendone，therewasacollationforthevisitors，andsomemoredisplayandadmirationofthetreasuresinsidethehouse。Towardsfouro’clock，coffeewasbroughtround；andthiswasasignaloftheapproachingcarriagethatwastotakethembacktotheirownhomes；whithertheyreturnedwiththehappyconsciousnessofawell—spentday，butwithsomefatigueatthelong—continuedexertionofbehavingtheirbest，andtalkingonstiltsforsomanyhours。NorwereLadyCumnorandherdaughtersfreefromsomethingofthesameself—approbation，andsomething，too，ofthesamefatigue；thefatiguethatalwaysfollowsonconsciouseffortstobehaveaswillbestpleasethesocietyyouarein。Forthefirsttimeinherlife，MollyGibsonwastobeincludedamongtheguestsattheTowers。Shewasmuchtooyoungtobeavisitorattheschool，soitwasnotonthataccountthatshewastogo；butithadsohappenedthatonedaywhenLordCumnorwasona’pottering’expedition，hehadmetMr。Gibson，thedoctoroftheneighbourhood，comingoutofthefarm—housemylordwasentering；andhavingsomesmallquestiontoaskthesurgeon（LordCumnorseldompassedanyoneofhisacquaintancewithoutaskingaquestionofsomesort—notalwaysattendingtotheanswer；itwashismodeofconversation），heaccompaniedMr。Gibsontotheout—building，toaringinthewallofwhichthesurgeon’shorsewasfastened。Mollywastheretoo，sittingsquareandquietonherroughlittlepony，waitingforherfather。Hergraveeyesopenedlargeandwideatthecloseneighbourhoodandevidentadvanceof’theearl’；fortoherlittleimaginationthegrey—haired，red—faced，somewhatclumsyman，wasacrossbetweenanarchangelandaking。’Yourdaughter，eh，Gibson？—nicelittlegirl，howold？Ponywantsgroomingthough，’pattingitashetalked。’What’syourname，mydear？He’ssadlybehindhandwithhisrent，asIwassaying，butifhe’sreallyill，ImustseeafterSheepshanks，whoisahardishmanofbusiness。What’shiscomplaint？
You’llcometoourschool—scrimmageonThursday，littlegirl—what’s—your—name？
Mindyousendher，orbringher，Gibson；andjustgiveawordtoyourgroom，forI’msurethatponywasn’tsingedlastyear，now，washe？Don’tforgetThursday，littlegirl—what’syourname？—it’sapromisebetweenus，isitnot？’Andofftheearltrotted，attractedbythesightofthefarmer’seldestsonontheothersideoftheyard。Mr。Gibsonmounted，andheandMollyrodeoff。Theydidnotspeakforsometime。Thenshesaid，’MayIgo，papa？’inratherananxiouslittletoneofvoice。’Where，mydear？’saidhe，wakeningupoutofhisownprofessionalthoughts。’TotheTowers—onThursday，youknow。Thatgentleman’（shewasshyofcallinghimbyhistitle）’askedme。’’Wouldyoulikeit，mydear？Ithasalwaysseemedtomeratheratiresomepieceofgaiety—ratheratiringday，Imean—beginningsoearly—andtheheat，andallthat。’’Oh，papa！’saidMollyreproachfully。’You’dliketogothen，wouldyou？’’YesifImay！—Heaskedme，youknow。Don’tyouthinkImay？—heaskedmetwiceover。’’Well！we’llsee—yes！Ithinkwecanmanageit，ifyouwishitsomuch，Molly。’Thentheyweresilentagain。By—and—by，Mollysaid：’Please，papa—Idowishtogo—butIdon’tcareaboutit。’’That’sratherapuzzlingspeech。ButIsupposeyoumeanyoudon’tcaretogo，ifitwillbeanytroubletogetyouthere。Icaneasilymanageit，however，soyoumayconsideritsettled。You’llwantawhitefrock，remember；you’dbettertellBettyyou’regoing，andshe’llseeaftermakingyoutidy。’Now，thereweretwoorthreethingstobedonebyMr。Gibson，beforehecouldfeelquitecomfortableaboutMolly’sgoingtothefestivalattheTowers，andeachoftheminvolvedalittletroubleonhispart。Buthewasverywillingtogratifyhislittlegirl；sothenextdayherodeovertotheTowers，ostensiblytovisitsomesickhousemaid，but，inreality，tothrowhimselfinmylady’sway，andgethertoratifyLordCumnor’sinvitationtoMolly。Hechosehistime，withalittlenaturaldiplomacy；
which，indeed，hehadoftentoexerciseinhisintercoursewiththegreatfamily。Herodeintothestable—yardabouttwelveo’clock，alittlebeforeluncheon—time，andyetaftertheworryofopeningthepost—baganddiscussingitscontentswasover。Afterhehadputuphishorse，hewentinbytheback—waytothehouse；the’House’onthisside，the’Towers’atthefront。
Hesawhispatient，gavehisdirectionstothehousekeeper，andthenwentout，withararewild—flowerinhishand，tofindoneoftheladiesTranmereinthegarden，where，accordingtohishopeandcalculation，hecameuponLadyCumnortoo—nowtalkingtoherdaughteraboutthecontentsofanopenletterwhichsheheldinherhand，nowdirectingagardeneraboutcertainbedding—outplants。’IwascallingtoseeNanny，andItooktheopportunityofbringingLadyAgnestheplantIwastellingheraboutasgrowingonCumnorMoss。’’Thankyousomuch，Mr。Gibson。Mamma，look！thisistheDroserarotundifoliaIhavebeenwantingsolong。’’Ah！yes；veryprettyIdaresay，onlyIamnobotanist。Nannyisbetter，Ihope？Wecan’thaveanyonelaidupnextweek，forthehousewillbequitefullofpeople—andherearetheDanbyswaitingtoofferthemselvesaswell。Onecomesdownforafortnightofquiet，atWhitsuntide，andleaveshalfone’sestablishmentintown，andassoonaspeopleknowofourbeinghere，wegetletterswithoutend，longingforabreathofcountryair，orsayinghowlovelytheTowersmustlookinspring；andImustown，LordCumnorisagreatdealtoblameforitall，forassoonaseverwearedownhere，heridesabouttoalltheneighbours，andinvitesthemtocomeoverandspendafewdays。’’WeshallgobacktotownonFridaythe18th，’saidLadyAgnes，inaconsolatorytone。’Ah，yes！assoonaswehavegotovertheschoolvisitors’affair。Butitisaweektothathappyday。’’Bytheway！’saidMr。Gibson，availinghimselfofthegoodopeningthuspresented，’ImetmylordattheCross—treesFarmyesterday，andhewaskindenoughtoaskmylittledaughter，whowaswithme，tobeoneofthepartyhereonThursday；itwouldgivethelassiegreatpleasure，Ibelieve。’
HepausedforLadyCumnortospeak。’Oh，well！ifmylordaskedher，Isupposeshemustcome，butIwishhewasnotsoamazinglyhospitable！Notbutwhatthelittlegirlwillbequitewelcome；only，yousee，hemetayoungerMissBrowningtheotherday，ofwhoseexistenceIhadneverheard。’’Shevisitsattheschool，mamma，’saidLadyAgnes。’Well，perhapsshedoes；Ineversaidshedidnot。IknewtherewasonevisitorofthenameofBrowning；Ineverknewthereweretwo，but，ofcourse，assoonasLordCumnorheardtherewasanother，hemustneedsaskher；