The Tenant of Wildfell Hall | Page 5

be entered till I had exchanged
my miry boots for a clean pair of shoes, and my rough surtout for a
respectable coat, and made myself generally presentable before decent
society; for my mother, with all her kindness, was vastly particular on
certain points.
In ascending to my room I was met upon the stairs by a smart, pretty
girl of nineteen, with a tidy, dumpy figure, a round face, bright,
blooming cheeks, glossy, clustering curls, and little merry brown eyes.
I need not tell you this was my sister Rose. She is, I know, a comely
matron still, and, doubtless, no less lovely - in your eyes - than on the
happy day you first beheld her. Nothing told me then that she, a few
years hence, would be the wife of one entirely unknown to me as yet,
but destined hereafter to become a closer friend than even herself, more
intimate than that unmannerly lad of seventeen, by whom I was
collared in the passage, on coming down, and well-nigh jerked off my
equilibrium, and who, in correction for his impudence, received a
resounding whack over the sconce, which, however, sustained no
serious injury from the infliction; as, besides being more than
commonly thick, it was protected by a redundant shock of short,
reddish curls, that my mother called auburn.
On entering the parlour we found that honoured lady seated in her
arm-chair at the fireside, working away at her knitting, according to her
usual custom, when she had nothing else to do. She had swept the
hearth, and made a bright blazing fire for our reception; the servant had
just brought in the tea-tray; and Rose was producing the sugar-basin
and tea-caddy from the cupboard in the black oak side-board, that
shone like polished ebony, in the cheerful parlour twilight.
'Well! here they both are,' cried my mother, looking round upon us
without retarding the motion of her nimble fingers and glittering
needles. 'Now shut the door, and come to the fire, while Rose gets the
tea ready; I'm sure you must be starved; - and tell me what you've been
about all day; - I like to know what my children have been about.'
'I've been breaking in the grey colt - no easy business that - directing
the ploughing of the last wheat stubble - for the ploughboy has not the

sense to direct himself - and carrying out a plan for the extensive and
efficient draining of the low meadowlands.'
'That's my brave boy! - and Fergus, what have you been doing?'
'Badger-baiting.'
And here he proceeded to give a particular account of his sport, and the
respective traits of prowess evinced by the badger and the dogs; my
mother pretending to listen with deep attention, and watching his
animated countenance with a degree of maternal admiration I thought
highly disproportioned to its object.
'It's time you should be doing something else, Fergus,' said I, as soon as
a momentary pause in his narration allowed me to get in a word.
'What can I do?' replied he; 'my mother won't let me go to sea or enter
the army; and I'm determined to do nothing else - except make myself
such a nuisance to you all, that you will be thankful to get rid of me on
any terms.'
Our parent soothingly stroked his stiff, short curls. He growled, and
tried to look sulky, and then we all took our seats at the table, in
obedience to the thrice-repeated summons of Rose.
'Now take your tea,' said she; 'and I'll tell you what I've been doing. I've
been to call on the Wilsons; and it's a thousand pities you didn't go with
me, Gilbert, for Eliza Millward was there!'
'Well! what of her?'
'Oh, nothing! - I'm not going to tell you about her; - only that she's a
nice, amusing little thing, when she is in a merry humour, and I
shouldn't mind calling her - '
'Hush, hush, my dear! your brother has no such idea!' whispered my
mother earnestly, holding up her finger.
'Well,' resumed Rose; 'I was going to tell you an important piece of
news I heard there - I have been bursting with it ever since. You know
it was reported a month ago, that somebody was going to take Wildfell
Hall - and - what do you think? It has actually been inhabited above a
week! - and we never knew!'
'Impossible!' cried my mother.
'Preposterous!!!' shrieked Fergus.
'It has indeed! - and by a single lady!'
'Good gracious, my dear! The place is in ruins!'
'She has had two or three rooms made habitable; and there she lives, all

alone - except an old woman for a servant!'
'Oh, dear! that spoils it - I'd hoped she was