ther dripping,
lard, bread, cold meat, or other kitchen perquisite whatever. I know we
never get up illuminations at Fieldhead, but I could not ask the meaning
of sundry quite unaccountable pounds of candles. We do not wash for the
parish, yet I viewed in silence items of soap and bleaching-powder
calculated to satisfy the solicitude of the most anxious inquirer after
our position in reference to those articles. Carnivorous I am not, nor
is Mrs. Pryor, nor is Mrs. Gill herself, yet I only hemmed and opened my
eyes a little wide when I saw butchers' bills whose figures seemed to
prove that fact--falsehood, I mean. Caroline, you may laugh at me, but
you can't change me. I am a poltroon on certain points; I feel it. There
is a base alloy of moral cowardice in my composition. I blushed and hung
my head before Mrs. Gill, when she ought to have been faltering
confessions to me. I found it impossible to get up the spirit even to
hint, much less to prove, to her that she was a cheat. I have no calm
dignity, no true courage about me."

"Shirley, what fit of self-injustice is this? My uncle, who is not given
to speak well of women, says there are not ten thousand men in England
as genuinely fearless as you."

"I am fearless, physically; I am never nervous about danger. I was not
startled from self-possession when Mr. Wynne's great red bull rose with
a bellow before my face, as I was crossing the cowslip lea alone,
stooped his begrimed, sullen head, and made a run at me; but I was
afraid of seeing Mrs. Gill brought to shame and confusion of face. You
have twice--ten times--my strength of mind on certain subjects,
Caroline. You, whom no persuasion can induce to pass a bull, however
quiet he looks, would have firmly shown my housekeeper she had done
wrong; then you would have gently and wisely admonished her; and at
last, I dare say, provided she had seemed penitent, you would have very
sweetly forgiven her. Of this conduct I am incapable. However, in spite
of exaggerated imposition, I still find we live within our means. I have
money in hand, and I really must do some good with it. The Briarfield
poor are badly off; they must be helped. What ought I to do, think you,
Lina? Had I not better distribute the cash at once?"

"No, indeed, Shirley; you will not manage properly. I have often noticed
that your only notion of charity is to give shillings and half-crowns in
a careless, free-handed sort of way, which is liable to continual a