lage, one at some distance off; and living with
herself, dependent on her, yet not dependent altogether, was all that
remained of another daughter, the one supposed to have been her favourite.
It seemed to the others rather hard that granny should lavish all her
benefits upon Eliza, while their own families got only little presents
and helps now and then. But Lizzie was always the one with mother, they
said, though goodness knows she had cost enough in her lifetime without
leaving such a charge on granny's hands. Lizzie Bagley, who in her day
had been the prettiest of the daughters, had married out of her own
sphere, though it could not be said to be a very grand marriage. She
had married a clerk, a sort of gentleman,--not like the ploughman and
country tradesman who had fallen to the lot of her sisters. But he had
never done well, had lost one situation after another, and had gone out
finally to Canada, where he died,--he and his wife both; leaving their
girl with foreign ways and a will of her own, such as the aunts thought
(or at least said) does not develop on the home soil. As poor little
Lizzie, however, had been but two years away, perhaps the blame did not
entirely lie with Canada. Her mother's beauty and her father's gentility
had given to Lizzie many advantages over her cousins. She was prettier
and far more "like a lady" than the best of them; she had a slim, straight
little person, without the big joints and muscles of the race, and with
blue eyes which were really blue, and not whitey-gray. And instead of
going out to service, as would have been natural, she had learned
dressmaking, which was a fine lady sort of a trade, and put nonsense
into her head, and led her into vanity. To see her in the sitting-room
behind the shop, with her hair so smooth and her waist so small and
collars and cuffs as nice as any young lady's, was as gall and wormwood
to the mothers of girls quite as good (they said) as Lizzie, and just as
near to granny, but never cosseted and petted in that way. And what did
granny expect was to become of her at the end? So long as she was sure
of her 'ome, and so long as the young ladies at the Warren gave her a
bit of work now and again, and Mrs. Wilberforce at the Rectory had her
in to make the children's things, all might be well enough. But the
young ladies would marry, and the little Wilberforces would grow up, and
granny--well, granny could not expect to live for ever. And what would
Miss L