“I should like it very much, if I may,” said Mary.  “Everything seems too happy for me all at once.  I thought it would always be part of my life to long for home, and losing that grievance makes me feel rather empty:  I suppose it served instead of sense to fill up my mind?”

“May I go with you, Mary?” whispered Letty—­a most inconvenient child, who listened to everything.  But she was made exultant by having her chin pinched and her cheek kissed by Mr. Farebrother—­ an incident which she narrated to her mother and father.

As the Vicar walked to Lowick, any one watching him closely might have seen him twice shrug his shoulders.  I think that the rare Englishmen who have this gesture are never of the heavy type—­ for fear of any lumbering instance to the contrary, I will say, hardly ever; they have usually a fine temperament and much tolerance towards the smaller errors of men (themselves inclusive).  The Vicar was holding an inward dialogue in which he told himself that there was probably something more between Fred and Mary Garth than the regard of old playfellows, and replied with a question whether that bit of womanhood were not a great deal too choice for that crude young gentleman.  The rejoinder to this was the first shrug.  Then he laughed at himself for being likely to have felt jealous, as if he had been a man able to marry, which, added he, it is as clear as any balance-sheet that I am not.  Whereupon followed the second shrug.

What could two men, so different from each other, see in this “brown patch,” as Mary called herself?  It was certainly not her plainness that attracted them (and let all plain young ladies be warned against the dangerous encouragement given them by Society to confide in their want of beauty).  A human being in this aged nation of ours is a very wonderful whole, the slow creation of long interchanging influences:  and charm is a result of two such wholes, the one loving and the one loved.

When Mr. and Mrs. Garth were sitting alone, Caleb said, “Susan, guess what I’m thinking of.”

“The rotation of crops,” said Mrs. Garth, smiling at him, above her knitting, “or else the back-doors of the Tipton cottages.”

“No,” said Caleb, gravely; “I am thinking that I could do a great turn for Fred Vincy.  Christy’s gone, Alfred will be gone soon, and it will be five years before Jim is ready to take to business.  I shall want help, and Fred might come in and learn the nature of things and act under me, and it might be the making of him into a useful man, if he gives up being a parson.  What do you think?”

“I think, there is hardly anything honest that his family would object to more,” said Mrs. Garth, decidedly.

“What care I about their objecting?” said Caleb, with a sturdiness which he was apt to show when he had an opinion.  “The lad is of age and must get his bread.  He has sense enough and quickness enough; he likes being on the land, and it’s my belief that he could learn business well if he gave his mind to it.”