lady's shoulder, in token of intelligence. Mrs Enderby was somewhat
flurried at the liberty which she felt her maid had taken with her
daughter; but she could not notice it now; and she introduced another
subject. Had everybody done calling on the Hopes? Were the wedding
visits all over? Oh, yes, Mrs Rowland was thankful to say; that fuss
was at an end at last. One would think nobody had ever been married
before, by the noise that had been made in Deerbrook about this young
couple.

"Mr Hope is such a favourite!" observed Mrs Enderby.

"He has been so; but it won't last. I never saw a young man so gone off
as he is. He has not been like the same man since he connected himself
with the Greys so decidedly. Surely, ma'am, you must perceive that."

"It had not occurred to me, my dear. He comes very often, and he is
always extremely kind and very entertaining. He brought his bride with
him yesterday, which I thought very attentive, as I could not go and pay
my respects to her. And really, Priscilla, whether it was that I had
not seen her for some time, or that pretty young ladies look prettiest
in an old woman's sick-room, I thought she was more beautiful than
ever."

"She is handsome," admitted Mrs Rowland. "Poor thing! it makes one
sorry for her, when one thinks what is before her."

"What is before her?" ask Mrs Enderby, alarmed.

"If she loves her husband at all, she must suffer cruelly in seeing him
act as he persists in doing; and she must tremble in looking forward to
the consequences. He is quite obstinate about voting for Mr Lowry,
though there is not a soul in Deerbrook to keep him in countenance; and
everybody knows how strongly Sir William Hunter has expressed himself in
favour of Mr Ballinger. It is thought the consequences will be very
serious to Mr Hope. There is his almshouse practice at stake, at all
events; and I fancy a good many families will have no more to do with
him if he defies the Hunters, and goes against the opinions of all his
neighbours. His wife must see that he has nobody with him. I do pity
the poor young thing!"

"Dear me!" said the old lady, "can nothing be done, I wonder. I declare
I am quite concerned. I should hope something may be done. I would
take the liberty of speaking to him myself, rather than that any harm
should happen to him. He has always been so very kind to me, that I
think I could venture to say anything to him. I will turn it over in my
mind,