Your sister, he saidbut we wont speak of her. If I could part with you, my lass, Id rather she was the one to come back.
Dahlia would be killed by our quiet life now, said Rhoda.
Ay, the farmer mused. If shed got to pay six men every Saturday night, she wouldnt complain o the quiet. But, thereyou neither of you ever took to farming or to housekeeping; but any gentleman might be proud to have one of you for a wife. I said so when you was girls. And if, youve been dull, my dear, whats the good o society? Tea-cakes maynt seem to cost money, nor a glass o grog to neighbours; but once open the door to that sort o thing and your reckoning goes. And what I said to your poor mothers true. I said: Our girls, theyre mayhap not equals of the Hollands, the Nashaws, the Perrets, and the others about hereno; theyre not equals, because the others are not equals o them, maybe.
The yeomans pride struggled out in this obscure way to vindicate his unneighbourliness and the seclusion of his daughters from the society of girls of their age and condition; nor was it hard for Rhoda to assure him, as she earnestly did, that he had acted rightly.
Rhoda, assisted by Mrs. Sumfit, was late in the night looking up what poor decorations she possessed wherewith to enter London, and be worthy of her sisters embrace, so that she might not shock the lady Dahlia had become.
Depend you on it, my dear, said Mrs. Sumfit, my Dahlys grown above him. Thats nettles to your uncle, my dear. He cant abide it. Dont you see he cant? Some mens like that. Others d see you dressed like a princess, and not be satisfied. They vary so, the teasin creatures! But one and all, whether they likes it or not, owns a womans the better for bein dressed in the fashion. What do grieve me to my insidest heart, it is your bonnet. What a bonnet that was lying beside her dear round arm in the potrait, and her finger up making a dimple in her cheek, as if she was thinking of us in a sorrowful way. Thats the arts o being lady-likelook sad-like. How could we get a bonnet for you?
My own must do, said Rhoda.
Yes, and you to look like lady and servant-gal a-goin out for an airin; and she to feel it! Pretty, thatd be!
She wont be ashamed of me, Rhoda faltered; and then hummed a little tune, and said firmlyIts no use my trying to look like what Im not.
No, truly; Mrs. Sumfit assented. But its your bein behind the fashions what hurt me. As well you might be an old thing like me, for any pleasant looks youll git. Now, the countryyoure like in a coalhole for the matter o that. While London, my dear, its pavement and gutter, and omnibus traffic; and if youre not in the fashion, the little wicked boys of the streets themselves ll let you know it; theyve got such eyes for fashions, they have. And I dont want my Dahlys sister to be laughed at, and called coal-scuttle, as happened to me, my dear, believe it or notand shoved aside, and said toWho are you? For she reely is nice-looking. Your uncle Anthony and Mr. Robert agreed upon that.
Rhoda coloured, and said, after a time, It would please me if people didnt speak about my looks.
The looking-glass probably told her no more than that she was nice to the eye, but a young man who sees anything should not see like a mirror, and a girls instinct whispers to her, that her image has not been taken to heart when she is accurately and impartially described by him.
The key to Rhoda at this period was a desire to be made warm with praise of her person. She beheld her face at times, and shivered. The face was so strange with its dark thick eyebrows, and peculiarly straight-gazing brown eyes; the level long red under-lip and curved upper; and the chin and nose, so unlike Dahlias, whose nose was, after a little dip from the forehead, one soft line to its extremity, and whose chin seemed shaped to a cup. Rhodas outlines were harder. There was a suspicion of a heavenward turn to her nose, and of squareness to her chin. Her face, when studied, inspired in its owners mind a doubt of her being even nice to the eye, though she knew that in exercise, and when smitten by a blush, brightness and colour aided her claims. She knew also that her head was easily poised on her neck; and that her figure was reasonably good; but all this was unconfirmed knowledge, quickly shadowed by the doubt. As the sun is wanted to glorify the right features of a landscape, this girl thirsted for a dose of golden flattery. She felt, without envy of her sister, that Dahlia eclipsed her: and all she prayed for was that she might not be quite so much in the background and obscure.
But great, powerful Londonthe new universe to her spiritwas opening its arms to her. In her half sleep that night she heard the mighty thunder of the city, crashing, tumults of disordered harmonies, and the splendour of the lamp-lighted city appeared to hang up under a dark-blue heaven, removed from earth, like a fresh planet to which she was being beckoned.
At breakfast on the Sunday morning, her departure was necessarily spoken of in public. Robert talked to her exactly as he had talked to Dahlia, on the like occasion. He mentioned, as she remembered in one or two instances, the names of the same streets, and professed a similar anxiety as regarded driving her to the station and catching the train. Thats a thing which makes a man feel his strengths nothing, he said. You cant stop it. I fancy I could stop a four-in-hand at full gallop. Mind, I only fancy I could; but when you come to do with iron and steam, I feel like a baby. You cant stop trains.
You can trip em, said Anthony, a remark that called forth general laughter, and increased the impression that he was a man of resources.
Rhoda was vexed by Roberts devotion to his strength. She was going, and wished to go, but she wished to be regretted as well; and she looked at him more. He, on the contrary, scarcely looked at her at all. He threw verbal turnips, oats, oxen, poultry, and every possible melancholy matter-of-fact thing, about the table, described the farm and his fondness for it and the neighbourhood; said a farmers life was best, and gave Rhoda a week in which to be tired of London.
She sneered in her soul, thinking how little he knows of the constancy in the nature of women! adding, when they form attachments.
Anthony was shown at church, in spite of a feeble intimation he expressed, that it would be agreeable to him to walk about in the March sunshine, and see the grounds and the wild flowers, which never gave trouble, nor cost a penny, and were always pretty, and worth twenty of your artificial contrivances.
Same as I say to Miss Dahly, he took occasion to remark; but no!no good. I dont believe women hear ye, when you talk sense of that kind. Look, says I, at a violet. Look, says she, at a rose. Well, what can ye say after that? She swears the rose looks best. You swear the violet costs least. Then there you have a battle between what it costs and how it looks.
Robert pronounced a conventional affirmative, when called on for it by a look from Anthony. Whereupon Rhoda cried out,
Dahlia was rightshe was right, uncle.
She was right, my dear, if she was a ten-thousander. She wasnt right as a farmers daughter with poor expectations.Id say humble, if humble she were. As a farmers daughter, she should choose the violet side. Thats clear as day. One things good, I admit; she tells me she makes her own bonnets, and theyre as good as milliners, and thats a proud matter to say of your own niece. And to buy dresses for herself, I suppose, shes sat down and she made dresses for fine ladies. Ive found her at it. Save the money for the work, says I. What does she replyshe always has a reply: Uncle, I know the value of money better. You mean, you spend it, I says to her. I buy more than its worth, says she. And Ill tell you what, Mr. Robert Armstrong, as I find your name to be, sir; if you beat women at talking, my lord! youre a clever chap.