not flaxen, but of light-brown
tint,--thick, and full, and glossy, so that its charms could not
all be hidden away let Mrs. Prime do what she would to effect such
hiding. She was well made, being tall and straight, with great
appearance of health and strength. She walked as though the motion
were pleasant to her, and easy,--as though the very act of walking
were a pleasure. She was bright too, and clever in their little
cottage, striving hard with her needle to make things look well, and
not sparing her strength in giving household assistance. One little
maiden Mrs. Ray employed, and a gardener came to her for half a day
once a week;--but I doubt whether the maiden in the house, or the
gardener out of the house, did as much hard work as Rachel. How
she had toiled over that carpet, patching it and piecing it! Even
Dorothea could not accuse her of idleness. Therefore Dorothea accused
her of profitless industry, because she would not attend more
frequently at those Dorcas meetings.

"But, Dolly, how on earth am I to make my own things, and look after
mamma's? Charity begins at home." Then had Dorothea put down her huge
Dorcas basket, and explained to her sister, at considerable length,
her reading of that text of Scripture. "One's own clothes must
be made all the same," Rachel said when the female preacher had
finished. "And I don't suppose even you would like mamma to go to
church without a decent gown." Then Dorothea had seized up her
huge basket angrily, and had trudged off into Baslehurst at a
quick pace,--at a pace much too quick when the summer's heat is
considered;--and as she went, unhappy thoughts filled her mind. A
coloured dress belonging to Rachel herself had met her eye, and she
had heard tidings of--a young man!

Such tidings, to her ears, were tidings of iniquity, of vanity,
of terrible sin; they were tidings which hardly admitted of being
discussed with decency, and which had to be spoken of below the
breath. A young man! Could it be that such disgrace had fallen upon
her sister! She had not as yet mentioned the subject to Rachel, but
she had given a dark hint to their afflicted mother.

"No, I didn't see it myself, but I heard it from Miss Pucker."

"She that was to have been married to William Whitecoat, the baker's
son, only he went away to Torquay and picked up with somebody else.
People said he did it because she does squint so dreadfully."

"Mother!"--and Dorothea spoke very sternly as she answ