id my mother, getting up, and bustling
out of the room, under pretence of household business, in order to escape
the contradiction that was trembling on my tongue.
After that Rose favoured me with further particulars respecting Mrs.
Graham. Her appearance, manners, and dress, and the very furniture of
the room she inhabited, were all set before me, with rather more
clearness and precision than I cared to see them; but, as I was not a
very attentive listener, I could not repeat the description if I would.
The next day was Saturday; and, on Sunday, everybody wondered whether or
not the fair unknown would profit by the vicar's remonstrance, and come
to church. I confess I looked with some interest myself towards the old
family pew, appertaining to Wildfell Hall, where the faded crimson
cushions and lining had been unpressed and unrenewed so many years, and
the grim escutcheons, with their lugubrious borders of rusty black cloth,
frowned so sternly from the wall above.
And there I beheld a tall, lady-like figure, clad in black. Her face was
towards me, and there was something in it which, once seen, invited me to
look again. Her hair was raven black, and disposed in long glossy
ringlets, a style of coiffure rather unusual in those days, but always
graceful and becoming; her complexion was clear and pale; her eyes I
could not see, for, being bent upon her prayer-book, they were concealed
by their drooping lids and long black lashes, but the brows above were
expressive and well defined; the forehead was lofty and intellectual, the
nose, a perfect aquiline and the features, in general,
unexceptionable--only there was a slight hollowness about the cheeks and
eyes, and the lips, though finely formed, were a little too thin, a
little too firmly compressed, and had something about them that
betokened, I thought, no very soft or amiable temper; and I said in my
heart--'I would rather admire you from this distance, fair lady, than be
the partner of your home.'
Just then she happened to raise her eyes, and they met mine; I did not
choose to withdraw my gaze, and she turned again to her book, but with a
momentary, indefinable expression of quiet scorn, that was inexpressibly
provoking to me.
'She thinks me an impudent puppy,' thought I. 'Humph!--she shall change
her mind before long, if I think it worth while.'
But then it flashed upon me that these were very improper thoughts for a
place of worship, and that my behav
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