If she had had the bliss to be really
Shirley Keeldar, Esq., lord of the manor of Briarfield, there was not a
single fair one in this and the two neighbouring parishes whom she
should have felt disposed to request to become Mrs. Keeldar, lady of the
manor. This declaration she made to Mrs. Pryor, who received it very
quietly, as she did most of her pupil's off-hand speeches, responding,
"My dear, do not allow that habit of alluding to yourself as a gentleman
to be confirmed. It is a strange one. Those who do not know you, hearing
you speak thus, would think you affected masculine manners."

Shirley never laughed at her former governess; even the little
formalities and harmless peculiarities of that lady were respectable in
her eyes. Had it been otherwise, she would have proved herself a weak
character at once; for it is only the weak who make a butt of quiet
worth. Therefore she took her remonstrance in silence. She stood
quietly near the window, looking at the grand cedar on her lawn
watching a bird on one of its lower boughs. Presently she began to
chirrup to the bird; soon her chirrup grew clearer; ere long she was
whistling; the whistle struck into a tune, and very sweetly and deftly
it was executed.

"My dear!" expostulated Mrs. Pryor.

"Was I whistling?" said Shirley. "I forgot. I beg your pardon, ma'am. I
had resolved to take care not to whistle before you."

"But, Miss Keeldar, where did you learn to whistle? You must have got
the habit since you came down into Yorkshire. I never knew you guilty of
it before."

"Oh! I learned to whistle a long while ago."

"Who taught you?"

"No one. I took it up by listening, and I had laid it down again. But
lately, yesterday evening, as I was coming up our lane, I heard a
gentleman whistling that very tune in the field on the other side of the
hedge, and that reminded me."

"What gentleman was it?"

"We have only one gentleman in this region, ma'am, and that is Mr.
Moore--at least he is the only gentleman who is not gray-haired. My two
venerable favourites, Mr. Helstone and Mr. Yorke, it is true, are fine
old beaus, infinitely better than any of the stupid young ones."

Mrs. Pryor was silent.

"You do not like Mr. Helstone, ma'am?"

"My dear, Mr. Helstone's office secures him from criticism."

"You generally contrive to leave the room when he is announced."

"Do you walk out this morning, my dear?"

"Yes, I shall go to the rectory, and seek and find Carolin