YOUNG.

One of the characteristics of this summer at Deerbrook was the rival
parties of pleasure with which the village was entertained. There had
been rival parties of pleasure the preceding year; but from what a
different cause! Then, all were anxious to do honour to Hester and
Margaret, or to show off in their eyes: now, the efforts made were, on
the one hand, to mortify, and on the other, to sustain them. The
Rowlands had a carriage party to the woods one week, and the Greys a
cavalcade to the flower-show at Blickley the next. The Rowlands gave a
dinner to introduce Mr Walcot to more and more of their country
neighbours; and the Greys had a dance in the green walk for the young
people of the village. The Rowlands went to a strawberry gathering at
Sir William Hunter's; and the Greys, with all their faction, as Mrs
Rowland called it, were invited to a syllabub under the cow, at the Miss
Andersons' breaking-up for the holidays.

All pretence of a good understanding between the two families was now at
an end. They ceased to invite each other, and scrambled for their
mutual acquaintances. The best of their mutual acquaintances saw no
reason for taking part in the quarrel, and preserved a strict
neutrality; and the worst enjoyed being scrambled for. The Levitts
visited both families, and entertained everybody in return, as if
nothing was happening. Sir William and Lady Hunter ate their annual
dinner with each, and condescended to pay two or three extra visits to
Mrs Rowland, without making a point of a full moon. Every circumstance
that happened afforded occasion for comment, of course. Mrs Grey
thought it very improper in the Rowlands to indulge in all this gaiety
while they were in deep mourning. It was painful to her feelings, she
owned, to hear the children shouting with laughter, while they were all
bombazine and crape from head to foot: she had hoped to see the memory
of her dear old friend treated with more respect. In vain did Mr Hope
plead Mrs Enderby's delight in the mirth of children, and that their
innocent gaiety would cheer her in her grave, if it could reach her
there. In vain did Hester urge the danger and sin of training the
little creatures to hypocrisy--a probable result, if they were to be
kept solemn and unamused to the day when they might put off their
mourning. Mrs Grey felt herself only the more called upon by all this
to furnish the amount of sighs and tears which she believed to