During the ensuing winter, all went on in monotonous regularity at
Haytersbank Farm for many weeks. Hepburn came and went, and thought
Sylvia wonderfully improved in docility and sobriety; and perhaps
also he noticed the improvement in her appearance. For she was at
that age when a girl changes rapidly, and generally for the better.
Sylvia shot up into a tall young woman; her eyes deepened in colour,
her face increased in expression, and a sort of consciousness of
unusual good looks gave her a slight tinge of coquettish shyness
with the few strangers whom she ever saw. Philip hailed her interest
in geography as another sign of improvement. He had brought back his
book of maps to the farm; and there he sat on many an evening
teaching his cousin, who had strange fancies respecting the places
about which she wished to learn, and was coolly indifferent to the
very existence of other towns, and countries, and seas far more
famous in story. She was occasionally wilful, and at times very
contemptuous as to the superior knowledge of her instructor; but, in
spite of it all, Philip went regularly on the appointed evenings to
Haytersbank--through keen black east wind, or driving snow, or
slushing thaw; for he liked dearly to sit a little behind her, with
his arm on the back of her chair, she stooping over the outspread
map, with her eyes,--could he have seen them,--a good deal fixed on
one spot in the map, not Northumberland, where Kinraid was spending
the winter, but those wild northern seas about which he had told
them such wonders.
One day towards spring, she saw Molly Corney coming towards the
farm. The companions had not met for many weeks, for Molly had been
from home visiting her relations in the north. Sylvia opened the
door, and stood smiling and shivering on the threshold, glad to see
her friend again. Molly called out, when a few paces off,-'Why, Sylvia, is that thee! Why, how thou'rt growed, to be sure!
What a bonny lass thou is!' 'Dunnot talk nonsense to my lass,' said Bell Robson, hospitably
leaving her ironing and coming to the door; but though the mother
tried to look as if she thought it nonsense, she could hardly keep
down the smile that shone out of her eyes, as she put her hand on
Sylvia's shoulder, with a fond sense of proprietorship in what was
being praised.
'Oh! but she is,' persisted Molly. 'She's grown quite a beauty sin'
I saw her. And if I don't tell her so, the men will.' 'Be quiet wi' thee,' said Sylvia, more than half offended, and
turning away in a huff at the open barefaced admiration.
'Ay; but they will,' persevered Molly. 'Yo'll not keep her long,
Mistress Robson. And as mother says, yo'd feel it a deal more to
have yer daughters left on hand.' 'Thy mother has many, I have but this one,' said Mrs. Robson, with
severe sadness; for now Molly was getting to talk as she disliked.
But Molly's purpose was to bring the conversation round to her own
affairs, of which she was very full.