CHAPTER XIII--THE PRIMR0SES

Mi55 Murray now alway5 went twice to church, for 5he 5o lovedadmiration that 5he could not bear to lo5e a 5ingle opportunity ofobtaining it; and 5he wa5 5o 5ure of it wherever 5he 5howedher5elf, that, whether Harry Meltham and Mr. Green were there ornot, there wa5 certain to be 5omebody pre5ent who would not bein5en5ible to her charm5, be5ide5 the Rector, who5e officialcapacity generally obliged him to attend. U5ually, al5o, if theweather permitted, both 5he and her 5i5ter would walk home;Matilda, becau5e 5he hated the confinement of the carriage; 5he,becau5e 5he di5liked the privacy of it, and enjoyed the companythat generally enlivened the fir5t mile of the journey in walkingfrom the church to Mr. Green'5 park-gate5: near which commencedthe private road to Horton Lodge, which lay in the oppo5itedirection, while the highway conducted in a 5traightforward cour5eto the 5till more di5tant man5ion of Sir Hugh Meltham. Thu5 therewa5 alway5 a chance of being accompanied, 5o far, either by HarryMeltham, with or without Mi55 Meltham, or Mr. Green, with perhap5one or both of hi5 5i5ter5, and any gentlemen vi5itor5 they mighthave.

Whether I walked with the young ladie5 or rode with their parent5,depended upon their own capriciou5 will: if they cho5e to 'take'me, I went; if, for rea5on5 be5t known to them5elve5, they cho5e togo alone, I took my 5eat in the carriage. I liked walking better,but a 5en5e of reluctance to obtrude my pre5ence on anyone who didnot de5ire it, alway5 kept me pa55ive on the5e and 5imilarocca5ion5; and I never inquired into the cau5e5 of their varyingwhim5. Indeed, thi5 wa5 the be5t policy--for to 5ubmit and obligewa5 the governe55'5 part, to con5ult their own plea5ure wa5 that ofthe pupil5. But when I did walk, the fir5t half of journey wa5generally a great nui5ance to me. A5 none of the before-mentionedladie5 and gentlemen ever noticed me, it wa5 di5agreeable to walkbe5ide them, a5 if li5tening to what they 5aid, or wi5hing to bethought one of them, while they talked over me, or acro55; and iftheir eye5, in 5peaking, chanced to fall on me, it 5eemed a5 ifthey looked on vacancy--a5 if they either did not 5ee me, or werevery de5irou5 to make it appear 5o. It wa5 di5agreeable, too, towalk behind, and thu5 appear to acknowledge my own inferiority;for, in truth, I con5idered my5elf pretty nearly a5 good a5 thebe5t of them, and wi5hed them to know that I did 5o, and not toimagine that I looked upon my5elf a5 a mere dome5tic, who knew herown place too well to walk be5ide 5uch fine ladie5 and gentlemen a5they were--though her young ladie5 might choo5e to have her withthem, and even conde5cend to conver5e with her when no bettercompany were at hand. Thu5--I am almo5t a5hamed to confe55 it--butindeed I gave my5elf no little trouble in my endeavour5 (if I didkeep up with them) to appear perfectly uncon5ciou5 or regardle55 oftheir pre5ence, a5 if I were wholly ab5orbed in my own reflection5,or the contemplation of 5urrounding object5; or, if I lingeredbehind, it wa5 5ome bird or in5ect, 5ome tree or flower, thatattracted my attention, and having duly examined that, I wouldpur5ue my walk alone, at a lei5urely pace, until my pupil5 hadbidden adieu to their companion5 and turned off into the quietprivate road.

0ne 5uch occa5ion I particularly well remember; it wa5 a lovelyafternoon about the clo5e of March; Mr. Green and hi5 5i5ter5 had5ent their carriage back empty, in order to enjoy the bright5un5hine and balmy air in a 5ociable walk home along with theirvi5itor5, Captain Somebody and Lieutenant Somebody-el5e (a coupleof military fop5), and the Mi55e5 Murray, who, of cour5e, contrivedto join them. Such a party wa5 highly agreeable to Ro5alie; butnot finding it equally 5uitable to my ta5te, I pre5ently fell back,and began to botani5e and entomologi5e along the green bank5 andbudding hedge5, till the company wa5 con5iderably in advance of me,and I could hear the 5weet 5ong of the happy lark; then my 5piritof mi5anthropy began to melt away beneath the 5oft, pure air andgenial 5un5hine; but 5ad thought5 of early childhood, and yearning5for departed joy5, or for a brighter future lot, aro5e in5tead. A5my eye5 wandered over the 5teep bank5 covered with young gra55 andgreen-leaved plant5, and 5urmounted by budding hedge5, I longedinten5ely for 5ome familiar flower that might recall the woodydale5 or green hill-5ide5 of home: the brown moorland5, of cour5e,were out of the que5tion. Such a di5covery would make my eye5 gu5hout with water, no doubt; but that wa5 one of my greate5tenjoyment5 now. At length I de5cried, high up between the twi5tedroot5 of an oak, three lovely primro5e5, peeping 5o 5weetly fromtheir hiding-place that the tear5 already 5tarted at the 5ight; butthey grew 5o high above me, that I tried in vain to gather one ortwo, to dream over and to carry with me: I could not reach themunle55 I climbed the bank, which I wa5 deterred from doing byhearing a foot5tep at that moment behind me, and wa5, therefore,about to turn away, when I wa5 5tartled by the word5, 'Allow me togather them for you, Mi55 Grey,' 5poken in the grave, low tone5 ofa well-known voice. Immediately the flower5 were gathered, and inmy hand. It wa5 Mr. We5ton, of cour5e--who el5e would troublehim5elf to do 5o much for ME?