« ПредишнаНапред »
The youngest of the two Miss Parkinsons, of Park Place, amazingly disobliged her family by marrying the Reverend Henry Wellford, vicar of · Summerfield, who had nothing on earth but good looks, good qualities, and four hundred and fifty pounds a year to recommend him. Alas! how did her father storm and rage, how did her mother fume and fret, how did aunt Diana congratulate herself that she had settled her thirty thousand pounds on Hannah her eldest niece, how did the aforesaid Hannah sneer and observe « she had thought how it would end,” and how did the good folks of Stoke Barton stare and sigh and shake their heads, and bless heaven that no poor
vicar had ever fallen in love with any of their daughters! Catherine Parkinson, who had refused Sir Robert Bosanquet! Henry Wellford, who might have had rich Miss Trotter for asking! So unadvised of both parties-nobody was surprised at old Mr. Parkinson's shutting his doors for ever against the young couple; or wasted much thought on the fate of the fine young man and the beautiful girl after the first excitement of astonishment was over, except Dr. Pennington, the rector of Stoke Barton; and he was second cousin to Henry Wellford, so no wonder!
Miss Hannah, having exhausted her spleen on the subject of her sister Kate's imprudent match, found herself in her twenty-ninth year on the verge of old-maidism, with
be good for her
, being cheerful, personable, and easy-tempered. The gentleman was acogled the marriage celebrated with all conte. beat speed; and the wedded pair went steadily bruge all the gradations customary in the byme. al state-exactly in the inverse order of those a te formd in a sonata. First they were “brilsatz " and even when the wedding clothes
, continued “allegro," then sank into “allepratunext to“ moderato"—then came “a-catrin,and at length a monotonous “andante, sisened only by a few of Mr. James Parkinson's
berts “ a furore." To say truth, if it had not
them for the gentleman's imperturbable good hu
Nobody coming to marry her, Nobody coming to woo;'
ww, her peevish, fractious temper would have was unbearable; and as it was, they went on like to performers on the piano-forte playing separate aby way of duet-he, in calm serenity, jogpag on with “ Just like Love" in the bass, while le in another key, and with shrill vehemence
te running up and down the indignant scales o
"Trifer, forbear!" in the treble.
not even a poor vicar; and the subject was beginning to give her considerable uneasiness, when her father's heir-at-law, Mr. James Parkinson, who for many years had regularly visited Park Place in the shooting season, came down for the express purpose of making her an offer. He was
The mind turns with pleasure from this matr
social concert to the neglected young pair
| Summerfield vicarage. Catherine Wellford, P.
only too good for her, being cheerful, personable, and easy-tempered. The gentleman was cepted, the marriage celebrated with all convenient speed; and the wedded pair went steadily through all the gradations customary in the hymeneal state--exactly in the inverse order of those to be found in a sonata. First they were “brillante," and even when the wedding clothes grew dirty, continued “allegro," then sank into “allegretto," next to “moderato"-then came a-capriccio," and at length a monotonous andante,” enlivened only by a few of Mr. James Parkinson's a furore.”
To say truth, if it had not been for the gentleman's imperturbable good humour, her peevish, fractious temper would have been unbearable; and as it was, they went on like two performers on the piano-forte playing separate airs by way of duet-he, in calm serenity, jogging on with “ Just like Love” in the bass, while she in another key, and with shrill vehemence, was running up and down the indignant scales of “ Trifler, forbear!” in the treble.
The mind turns with pleasure from this matrimonial concert to the neglected young pair in Summerfield vicarage. Catherine Wellford, per
fectly satisfied with the companion and station she had chosen for life, yet felt a little natural compunction at having dared to make herself happy in opposition to the will of those whom nature had constituted her arbiters. She endeavoured, therefore, to atone for her breach of filial obedience by humble letters to her parents; but as they remained true to that inflexibility of purpose which, exercised in daily minutiæ, had in a great measure driven their daughter from her home, she at length abstained from appeals which she found to be useless.
Nothing could be much less inviting than the first appearance of Summerfield vicarage. It was a small, dull-looking, red-brick building, such as may often be seen inhabited by the curés of the French provinces, having a little inverted battlement-like brickwork ornament,—stay, what is the architectural word? dentils—a row of square teeth, as it were, running along the front; a tiled roof, and heavy latticed windows with deep seats; an ungainly looking house, in short, but one which like some plain women, might be rendered attrac. tive by dress and decoration. A smoky parlour on one side of the hall or passage, a small study
a he other, kitchen and et ceteras behind, stairs
read them. The parlour chimney was cured of
, the walls were papered, book-shelves and
Haring made this promising beginning, M
on the other, kitchen and et ceteras behind, stairs