Rachel Ray

e the night of the party arrived. She was put on her mettle in a way that was disagreeable to her, and forced into an amount of submissive supplication to Mr Tappitt for funds, which was vexatious

ed her husband’s objections comfortably, and have put him into the background for the occasion without any inconvenience to herself or power of remonstrance from him. But when Mrs Butler Cornbury had been gracious, and when the fiddles and hor

pooh-poohed her husband when he asked a question about the party. “Just a few friends got together by t

replied indignantly, “and I suppose my friends are their friends.” So there had b

I don’t want to see him, and wha

r girls to hold their heads up in the place; and if they show that they’ve resp

le by giving grand dances, I’d rather not have them

the lights, and a bit of something to eat. What people drink at such times comes to nothing — just a little negus

e that up — at any rate for the present. She gave up the champagne; but in abandoning that, she obtained the marital sanction, a quasi sanction which he was too honourable as a husband afterwards to repudiate, for the music and the eatables. Mrs T

ver, had its effect, as also did the exceeding “boilishness” of the water which was brought in for his gin toddy that n

e month was out,” Mrs Tappitt said to her husband the

for this party?” said the brewer; and it seemed by the tone of

ls in Baslehurst cost less in the way of finery. In the o

utter this one word. He intended to signify how perfectly well he was aware that a muslin f

Now Mr Tappitt, who was a man of sentiment, always gave his wife some costly article of raiment on the first of September, calling her his partridge and his bird — for on that day the

ng round with his face all covered with lather. Then agai

l. Two pounds each for the

accident, and uttered a somewhat vehement exclamation. “There,” said he, “now I’ve cut myself, and it’s your fault. Oh dear; oh dear! When I cut mysel

y joined to all other preparations for the party made them very busy. Till twelve at night on three evenings they sat with their smart new things in their laps and their needles in their hands; but they did not begrudge this, as Mrs Butler Cornbury was coming to the brewery. They were very anxious to get the heavy part of the work done before the Rowans shou

ed to word certain of her invitations with a special view to this end. Had her idea been carried out people who might not otherwise have come were to be

my dear,” Mrs Ta

“Besides, she would be sure to hear of

It would show that we appreciated her kin

come. But she was an old maid, and was never very bright in her attire. “Perhaps Captain Gordon’s lady would come,” Mrs Tappitt suggested. But at this proposition all the girls shook their heads. Captain Gordon had lately take

Martha, “and she would only make

lly stuck up in chu

s red at the en

tion was sent to Ca

Everybody desired to know the Fawcetts, and they were the especial favourites of Mrs Butler Cornbury. But then Mrs Fawcett did not visit Mrs Tappitt. The girls and the mothers had a bowing acquaintance, and were always very gracious to each other. Old Fawcett and old Tappitt saw each other in town daily, and knew each other as well as they knew the cross in the Butt

ged if your young ladies would come. Mrs Butler Cornbury has been kind enough to say that she would join us, &c, &c, &c.” Mrs Tappitt and Augusta were in a seventh heaven of happin

’ve been very fortuna

will get all the best

that,” said Augusta,

r, I fear, their chance of coming to the party would have been small. There was one young Griggs, a man very terrible in his vulgarity, loud, rampant, conspicuous with villainous jewellery, and odious with the worst abominations of perfumery. He was loathsome even to the Tappitt girls; but then the Griggses and the Tappitts had known each other for half a century, and among their ordinary acquaintances Adolphus Gr

it had been a brewery; and no more harmless people than Mrs Rule and her daughter existed in the neighbourhood — but they were close neighbours of the Comforts, of Mrs Cornbury’s father and mother, and Mr Comfort would have as soon asked his sexton

for you. I know she’ll have a place in the fly, and she’s very good-natured.” In answer to this Rachel had written a separate note to Cherry, telling her friend in the least boastful words which she could use that provision had been alre

ne of the family conferences; “Augusta said that Mrs Butler Cornbury would no

ything of the ki

d, or somebody. How nice for Rachel to

had on that morning achieved her victory over the

sant round eager eyes, and a kindly voice. Before she had been three hours in the house Cherry had claimed Mary for her own, had told her all about the party, all about the dresses, all about Mrs Butler Cornbury and the Miss Fawcetts, and a word or two also about Rachel Ray. “I can tell you somebody that’s almost in love with her.” “You don’t mean Luke? said Mary. “Yes, but I do,” said Cherry; “

d the crumbs from out of her lap and walked off, wounded in spirit, to her own room. On that evening Rachel saw no more of her sister. Mrs Ray went up to her daughter’s bedroom, but stayed there only a minute or two. “What does she say?” asked Rach

she should manage everything, otherw

uch clerical thunders against the young man as would have quieted Rachel and have satisfied Dorothea. But in all this she had been — I may hardly say disappointed — but dismayed and bewildered by advice the very opposite to that which she had expected. It was perplexing, but she seemed to be aware that she had no alternative now but to fight the battle on Rachel’s side.

hind the new church, in which lived Mr Prong. Have I as yet said that Mr Prong was a bachelor? Such was the fact; and there were not wanting those in Baslehurst who declared that he would amend the fault by marrying Mrs Prime. But this rumour,

ing, sufficiently intelligent, true in most things to the instincts of his calling — but deficient in one vital qualification for a clergyman of the Church of England; he was not a gentleman. May I not call it a necessary qualification for a clergyman of any church? He was not a gentleman. I do not mean to say that he was a thief or a liar; nor do I mean hereby to complain that he picked his teeth with his fork and misplaced his “h’s”. I am by no means prepared to define what I do mean — thinking, however, that most men and most women will understand me. Nor do I speak of this deficiency in his clerical aptitudes as being injurious to him simply — or even chiefly — among folk who are themselves gentle; but that his efficiency for clerical purposes was marred altogether,

med with absolute power. Then she went on to tell Mr Prong how Mrs Ray had gone off to Mr Comfort, as she herself had now come to him. It was hard — was it not? — for poor Rachel that the story of her few minutes’ whispering under the elm tree should thus be bruited about among the ecclesiastical councillors of the locality. Mr Prong sat with patient face and with mi

hen the shepherd slumbers in the folds?” The

hat there are still left a few who do not run fro

ng their work. It appeared to him that no sheep could nibble his grass in wholesome content, unless some shepherd were at work at him constantly with his crook. It was for the shepherd, as he thought, to know what tufts of grass were rank, and in what spots the herbage might be bitten down to the bare ground. A shepherd who would allow his flock to feed at large under his eye, merely watching his fences and folding his ewes and lambs

Tappitts,” he said, “were worldly people — very worldly people; utterly unfit to be the associates of the sister of his friend. As to the ‘young man’, he thought that nothing further should be said at present, but that Rachel should be closely watched — very closely watched.” Mrs Prime asked him to call upon her mother and explain his views, but he declined to do this. “He would have been most willing — so willing! but he co

g such people do not bear the meaning which they have in the outer world. These people are demonstrative and unctuous — whereas the outer world is reticent and dry. They are perhaps too free with their love, but the fault is better than that other fault o

tual warmth. But there was no touch of earthly affection in her pressure; and if the

but nice and tidy, so that her presence need not be a disgrace. And it was pretty to see how Mrs Ray revelled in these little gauds for her daughter now that the barrier of her religious awe was broken down, and that the waters of the world had made their way in upon her. She still had a feeling that she was being drowned, but she confessed that such drowning was very pleasant. She almost felt that such drowning was good for her. At any rate it had been ordered by Mr Comfort, and if things went astra

have you done?’— she had said when her father first told her. “Now I must stay there all the night, for of course she’ll want to go on to the last dance!” But, like her father, she was good-natured, and therefore, though she wo

e than she should have done in thinking of the com

d?” Mrs Prime asked he

ack now, Dorothea,” sai

all go to Miss Pucker’s — but not till that morning; so t

parations were made for Mrs Tappitt’s — ball. The word “party” had now