Shirley

me that he will not be a kind husband?«
    »My uncle would affirm it unhesitatingly. ›He will be sick of you in a month,‹ he would say.«
    »Mrs. Pryor would seriously intimate the same.«
    »Mrs. Yorke and Miss Mann would darkly suggest ditto.«
    »If they are true oracles, it is good never to fall in love.«
    »Very good, if you can avoid it.«
    »I choose to doubt their truth.«
    »I am afraid that proves you are already caught.«
    »Not I: but if I were, do you know what soothsayers I would consult?«
    »Let me hear.«
    »Neither man nor woman, elderly nor young: – the little Irish beggar that comes barefoot to my door; the mouse that steals out of the cranny in the wainscot; the bird that in frost and snow pecks at my window for a crumb; the dog that licks my hand and sits beside my knee.«
    »Did you ever see any one who was kind to such things?«
    »Did you ever see any one whom such things seemed instinctively to follow, like, rely on?«
    »We have a black cat and an old dog at the Rectory. I know somebody to whose knee that black cat loves to climb; against whose shoulder and cheek it likes to purr. The old dog always comes out of his kennel and wags his tail, and whines affectionately when somebody passes.«
    »And what does that somebody do?«
    »He quietly strokes the cat, and lets her sit while he conveniently can, and when he must disturb her by rising, he puts her softly down, and never flings her from him roughly; he always whistles to the dog and gives him a caress.«
    »Does he? It is not Robert?«
    »But it is Robert.«
    »Handsome fellow!« said Shirley, with enthusiasm: her eyes sparkled.
    »Is he not handsome? Has he not fine eyes and well-cut features, and a clear, princely forehead?«
    »He has all that, Caroline. Bless him! he is both graceful and good.«
    »I was sure you would see that he was: when I first looked at your face I knew you would.«
    »I was well inclined to him before I saw him. I liked him when I did see him: I admire him now. There is charm in beauty for itself, Caroline; when it is blent with goodness, there is a powerful charm.«
    »When mind is added, Shirley?«
    »Who can resist it?«
    »Remember my uncle, Mesdames Pryor, Yorke, and Mann.«
    »Remember the croaking of the frogs of Egypt! He is a noble being. I tell you when they
are
good, they are the lords of the creation, – they are the sons of God. Moulded in their Maker's image, the minutest spark of His spirit lifts them almost above mortality. Indisputably, a great, good, handsome man is the first of created things.«
    »Above us?«
    »I would scorn to contend for empire with him, – I would scorn it. Shall my left hand dispute for precedence with my right? – shall my heart quarrel with my pulse? – shall my veins be jealous of the blood which fills them?«
    »Men and women, husbands and wives quarrel horribly, Shirley.«
    »Poor things! – poor, fallen, degenerate things! God made them for another lot – for other feelings.«
    »But are we men's equals, or are we not?«
    »Nothing ever charms me more than when I meet my superior – one who makes me sincerely feel that he is my superior.«
    »Did you ever meet him?«
    »I should be glad to see him any day: the higher above me, so much the better: it degrades to stoop – it is glorious to look up. What frets me is, that when I try to esteem, I am baffled: when religiously inclined, there are but false gods to adore. I disdain to be a Pagan.«
    »Miss Keeldar, will you come in? We are here at the Rectory gates.«
    »Not to-day; but to-morrow I shall fetch you to spend the evening with me. Caroline Helstone – if you really are what at present to me you seem – you and I will suit. I have never in my whole life been able to talk to a young lady as I have talked to you this morning. Kiss me – and good-bye.«
     
    Mrs. Pryor seemed as well-disposed to cultivate Caroline's acquaintance as Shirley. She, who went nowhere else, called on an early day at the Rectory. She came in the afternoon, when the Rector happened to be out. It was rather a close day; the heat of the weather had flushed her, and she seemed fluttered, too, by the circumstance of entering a strange house; for it appeared her habits were most retiring and secluded. When Miss Helstone went to her in the dining-room, she found her seated on the sofa, trembling, fanning herself with her handkerchief, and seeming to contend with a nervous discomposure that threatened to become