h be dressed in their gala
attire, to spend a few hours under a bright, festive aspect, among
people whose company would oblige them to assume a new demeanour
towards each other, not so familiar as their every-day manner, but
allowing more scope for the expression of rustic gallantry. Philip
had so seldom been to anything of the kind, that, even had Sylvia
not been going, he would have felt a kind of shy excitement at the
prospect of anything so unusual. But, indeed, if Sylvia had not been
going, it is very probable that Philip's rigid conscience might have
been aroused to the question whether such parties did not savour too
much of the world for him to form one in them.

As it was, however, the facts to him were simply these. He was going
and she was going. The day before, he had hurried off to Haytersbank
Farm with a small paper parcel in his pocket--a ribbon with a little
briar-rose pattern running upon it for Sylvia. It was the first
thing he had ever ventured to give her--the first thing of the kind
would, perhaps, be more accurate; for when he had first begun to
teach her any lessons, he had given her Mavor's Spelling-book, but
that he might have done, out of zeal for knowledge, to any dunce of
a little girl of his acquaintance. This ribbon was quite a different
kind of present; he touched it tenderly, as if he were caressing it,
when he thought of her wearing it; the briar-rose (sweetness and
thorns) seemed to be the very flower for her; the soft, green ground
on which the pink and brown pattern ran, was just the colour to show
off her complexion. And she would in a way belong to him: her
cousin, her mentor, her chaperon, her lover! While others only
admired, he might hope to appropriate; for of late they had been
such happy friends! Her mother approved of him, her father liked
him. A few months, perhaps only a few weeks more of self-restraint,
and then he might go and speak openly of his wishes, and what he had
to offer. For he had resolved, with the quiet force of his
character, to wait until all was finally settled between him and his
masters, before he declared himself to either Sylvia or her parents.
The interval was spent in patient, silent endeavours to recommend
himself to her.

He had to give his ribbon to his aunt in charge for Sylvia, and that
was a disappointment to his fancy, although he tried to reason
himself into thinking that it was better so. He had not time to wait
for her return from some e