her I don't
know. It isn't only the want of money that I think about--nothing of the
kind--but there's neither beauty, nor cleverness, nor goodness, nor
anything else that's desirable. If you knew your own value, as I do, you
wouldn't dream of it. Do wait awhile and see! If you bind yourself to
her, you'll repent it all your lifetime when you look round and see how
many better there are. Take my word for it, you will.'

'Well, mother, do be quiet!--I hate to be lectured!--I'm not going to
marry yet, I tell you; but--dear me! mayn't I enjoy myself at all?'

'Yes, my dear boy, but not in that way. Indeed, you shouldn't do such
things. You would be wronging the girl, if she were what she ought to
be; but I assure you she is as artful a little hussy as anybody need wish
to see; and you'll got entangled in her snares before you know where you
are. And if you marry her, Gilbert, you'll break my heart--so there's an
end of it.'

'Well, don't cry about it, mother,' said I, for the tears were gushing
from her eyes; 'there, let that kiss efface the one I gave Eliza; don't
abuse her any more, and set your mind at rest; for I'll promise
never--that is, I'll promise to think twice before I take any important
step you seriously disapprove of.'

So saying, I lighted my candle, and went to bed, considerably quenched in
spirit.

CHAPTER V

It was about the close of the month, that, yielding at length to the
urgent importunities of Rose, I accompanied her in a visit to Wildfell
Hall. To our surprise, we were ushered into a room where the first
object that met the eye was a painter's easel, with a table beside it
covered with rolls of canvas, bottles of oil and varnish, palette,
brushes, paints, &c. Leaning against the wall were several sketches in
various stages of progression, and a few finished paintings--mostly of
landscapes and figures.

'I must make you welcome to my studio,' said Mrs. Graham; 'there is no
fire in the sitting-room to-day, and it is rather too cold to show you
into a place with an empty grate.'

And disengaging a couple of chairs from the artistical lumber that
usurped them, she bid us be seated, and resumed her place beside the
easel--not facing it exactly, but now and then glancing at the picture
upon it while she conversed, and giving it an occasional touch with her
brush, as if she found it impossible to wean her attention entirely from
her occupation to fix it upon her guests. It wa