om Ruth's presence. Mrs Bradshaw
sighed, and wished she had a daughter as lovely, about whom to weave
a romance; for castle-building, after the manner of the Minerva
press, was the outlet by which she escaped from the pressure of her
prosaic life, as Mr Bradshaw's wife. Her perception was only of
external beauty, and she was not always alive to that, or she might
have seen how a warm, affectionate, ardent nature, free from all
envy or carking care of self, gave an unspeakable charm to her plain,
bright-faced daughter Jemima, whose dark eyes kept challenging
admiration for her friend. The first evening spent at Mr Bradshaw's
passed like many succeeding visits there. There was tea, the equipage
for which was as handsome and as ugly as money could purchase. Then
the ladies produced their sewing, while Mr Bradshaw stood before
the fire, and gave the assembled party the benefit of his opinions
on many subjects. The opinions were as good and excellent as the
opinions of any man can be who sees one side of a case very strongly,
and almost ignores the other. They coincided in many points with
those held by Mr Benson, but he once or twice interposed with a plea
for those who might differ; and then he was heard by Mr Bradshaw with
a kind of evident and indulgent pity, such as one feels for a child
who unwittingly talks nonsense. By-and-by, Mrs Bradshaw and Miss
Benson fell into one _tete a tete_, and Ruth and Jemima into another.
Two well-behaved but unnaturally quiet children were sent to bed
early in the evening, in an authoritative voice, by their father,
because one of them had spoken too loud while he was enlarging on an
alteration in the tariff. Just before the supper-tray was brought in,
a gentleman was announced whom Ruth had never previously seen, but
who appeared well known to the rest of the party. It was Mr Farquhar,
Mr Bradshaw's partner; he had been on the Continent for the last
year, and had only recently returned. He seemed perfectly at home,
but spoke little. He leaned back in his chair, screwed up his
eyes, and watched everybody; yet there was nothing unpleasant or
impertinent in his keenness of observation. Ruth wondered to hear
him contradict Mr Bradshaw, and almost expected some rebuff; but Mr
Bradshaw, if he did not yield the point, admitted, for the first time
that evening, that it was possible something might be said on the
other side. Mr Farquhar differed also from Mr Benson, but it was in a
more respectf