nly yesterday I met
him over there by the mill,'--Dagworthy's mill stood at one end of the
cattle-market,--'and you can't think the impudent way he talked. And,
oh, how did he know that you were going to give me lessons?'

'I can't say.'

'Well, he did know, somehow; I was astonished. Perhaps your father told
him?'

'That is not very likely.'

'Well, he knew. I wonder who he'll marry next. You may depend upon it he
did treat his wife badly; everybody said so. If he were to propose to
me, I should answer like that woman did to Henry the Eighth, you know.'
She tittered. 'I can't fancy marrying a man who's been married before,
could you? I said that to Mrs. Tichborne one day, at Bridlington, and
what do you think she answered? Oh, she said, they're the best husbands.
Only a good-natured fool marries a second time.'

This was the kind of talk that Emily knew she would have to endure; it
was unutterably repugnant to her. She had observed in successive
holidays the growth of a spirit in Jessie Cartwright more distinctly
offensive than anything which declared itself in her sisters' gabble,
however irritating that might be. The girl's mind seemed to have been
sullied by some contact, and previous indications disposed Emily to
think that this Mrs. Tichborne was very probably a source of evil. She
was the wife of an hotel-keeper, the more vulgar for certain
affectations of refinement acquired during bar-maidenhood in London, and
her intimacy with the Cartwrights was now of long standing. It was
Jessie whom she specially affected; with her Jessie had just been
spending a fortnight at the seaside. The evil caught from Mrs.
Tichborne, or from some one of similar character, did not associate
itself very naturally with the silly _naivete_ which marked the girl;
she had the air of assuming the objectionable tone as a mark of
cleverness. Emily could not trust herself to utter the kind of comment
which would naturally have risen to her lips; it would be practically
useless, and her relations to Jessie were not such as could engender
affectionate zeal in a serious attempt to overcome evil influences.
Emily was not of the women whose nature it is to pursue missionary
enterprise; instead of calling forth her energies, a situation like the
present threw her back upon herself; she sought a retreat from disgust
in the sheltered purity of her own heart. Outwardly she became cold; her
face expressed that severity which was one side of her