Shirley

Broadbent, she could not give her opinion. Pause third came on. During its continuance, Caroline was feeling at her heart's core what a dreaming fool she was; what an unpractical life she led; how little fitness there was in her for ordinary intercourse with the ordinary world. She was feeling how exclusively she had attached herself to the white cottage in the Hollow; how in the existence of one inmate of that cottage she had pent all her universe: she was sensible that this would not do, and that some day she would be forced to make an alteration: it could not be said that she exactly wished to resemble the ladies before her, but she wished to become superior to her present self, so as to feel less scared by their dignity.
    The sole means she found of reviving the flagging discourse, was by asking them if they would all stay to tea; and a cruel struggle it cost her to perform this piece of civility. Mrs. Sykes had begun – »We are much obliged to you, but ––« when in came Fanny once more.
    »The gentlemen will stay the evening, ma'am,« was the message she brought from Mr. Helstone.
    »What gentlemen have you?« now inquired Mrs. Sykes. Their names were specified; she and her daughters interchanged glances: the curates were not to them what they were to Caroline. Mr. Sweeting was quite a favourite with them; even Mr. Malone rather so, because he was a clergyman. »Really, since you have company already, I think we will stay,« remarked Mrs. Sykes. »We shall be quite a pleasant little party: I always like to meet the clergy.«
    And now Caroline had to usher them up-stairs, to help them to unshawl, smooth their hair and make themselves smart; to reconduct them to the drawing-room, to distribute amongst them books of engravings, or odd things purchased from the Jew-basket: she was obliged to be a purchaser, though she was but a slack contributor; and if she had possessed plenty of money, she would rather, when it was brought to the Rectory – an awful incubus! – have purchased the whole stock, than contributed a single pincushion.
    It ought perhaps to be explained in passing, for the benefit of those who are not »au fait« to the mysteries of the »Jew-basket« and »Missionary-basket,« that these »meubles« are willow-repositories, of the capacity of a good-sized family clothes-basket, dedicated to the purpose of conveying from house to house a monster collection of pincushions, needle-books, card-racks, work-bags, articles of infant-wear, etc. etc. etc., made by the willing or reluctant hands of the Christian ladies of a parish, and sold per force to the heathenish gentlemen thereof, at prices unblushingly exorbitant. The proceeds of such compulsory sale are applied to the conversion of the Jews, the seeking up of the ten missing tribes, or to the regeneration of the interesting coloured population of the globe. Each lady-contributor takes it in her turn to keep the basket a month, to sew for it, and to foist off its contents on a shrinking male public. An exciting time it is when that turn comes round: some active-minded women, with a good trading spirit, like it, and enjoy exceedingly the fun of making hard-handed worsted-spinners cash up, to the tune of four or five hundred per cent. above cost price, for articles quite useless to them; other – feebler souls object to it, and would rather see the prince of darkness himself at their door any morning, than that phantom-basket, brought with »Mrs. Rouse's compliments, and please, ma'am, she says it's your turn now.«
    Miss Helstone's duties of hostess performed, more anxiously than cheerily, she betook herself to the kitchen, to hold a brief privy council with Fanny and Eliza about the tea.
    »What a lot on 'em!« cried Eliza, who was cook. »And I put off the baking to-day because I thought there would be bread plenty to fit while morning: we shall never have enow.«
    »Are there any tea-cakes?« asked the young mistress.
    »Only three and a loaf. I wish these fine folk would stay at home till they're asked: and I want to finish trimming my hat« (bonnet she meant).
    »Then,« suggested Caroline, to whom the importance of the emergency gave a certain energy, »Fanny must run down to Briarfield and buy some muffins and crumpets, and some biscuits: and don't be cross, Eliza, we can't help it now.«
    »And which tea-things are we to have?«
    »Oh, the best, I suppose: I'll get out the silver service,« and she ran up-stairs to the plate-closet, and