Middlemarch - Page 448/561

"I cannot conceive how it could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother," said

Fred, who nevertheless felt that surprising conceptions were beginning

to form themselves.

"Precisely; you cannot conceive," said Mrs. Garth, cutting her words as

neatly as possible.

For a moment Fred looked at the horizon with a dismayed anxiety, and

then turning with a quick movement said almost sharply--

"Do you mean to say, Mrs. Garth, that Mr. Farebrother is in love with

Mary?"

"And if it were so, Fred, I think you are the last person who ought to

be surprised," returned Mrs. Garth, laying her knitting down beside her

and folding her arms. It was an unwonted sign of emotion in her that

she should put her work out of her hands. In fact her feelings were

divided between the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and the

sense of having gone a little too far. Fred took his hat and stick and

rose quickly.

"Then you think I am standing in his way, and in Mary's too?" he said,

in a tone which seemed to demand an answer.

Mrs. Garth could not speak immediately. She had brought herself into

the unpleasant position of being called on to say what she really felt,

yet what she knew there were strong reasons for concealing. And to her

the consciousness of having exceeded in words was peculiarly

mortifying. Besides, Fred had given out unexpected electricity, and he

now added, "Mr. Garth seemed pleased that Mary should be attached to

me. He could not have known anything of this."

Mrs. Garth felt a severe twinge at this mention of her husband, the

fear that Caleb might think her in the wrong not being easily

endurable. She answered, wanting to check unintended consequences--

"I spoke from inference only. I am not aware that Mary knows anything

of the matter."

But she hesitated to beg that he would keep entire silence on a subject

which she had herself unnecessarily mentioned, not being used to stoop

in that way; and while she was hesitating there was already a rush of

unintended consequences under the apple-tree where the tea-things

stood. Ben, bouncing across the grass with Brownie at his heels, and

seeing the kitten dragging the knitting by a lengthening line of wool,

shouted and clapped his hands; Brownie barked, the kitten, desperate,

jumped on the tea-table and upset the milk, then jumped down again and

swept half the cherries with it; and Ben, snatching up the half-knitted

sock-top, fitted it over the kitten's head as a new source of madness,

while Letty arriving cried out to her mother against this cruelty--it

was a history as full of sensation as "This is the house that Jack

built." Mrs. Garth was obliged to interfere, the other young ones came

up and the tete-a-tete with Fred was ended. He got away as soon as he

could, and Mrs. Garth could only imply some retractation of her

severity by saying "God bless you" when she shook hands with him.