her part that offended Mr. Farquhar, who did not see how she expiated her anger in tears and self-reproaches when alone in her chamber.  Then he would lecture himself severely on the interest he could not help feeling in a wilful girl; he would determine not to interfere with her opinions in future, and yet, the very next time they differed, he strove to argue her into harmony with himself, in spite of all resolutions to the contrary.

Mr. Bradshaw saw just enough of this interest which Jemima had excited in his partner’s mind, to determine him in considering their future marriage as a settled affair.  The fitness of the thing had long ago struck him; her father’s partner—­so the fortune he meant to give her might continue in the business; a man of such steadiness of character, and such a capital eye for a desirable speculation, as Mr. Farquhar—­just the right age to unite the paternal with the conjugal affection, and consequently the very man for Jemima, who had something unruly in her, which might break out under a regime less wisely adjusted to the circumstances than was Mr. Bradshaw’s (in his own opinion)—­a house ready furnished, at a convenient distance from her home—­no near relations on Mr. Farquhar’s side, who might be inclined to consider his residence as their own for an indefinite time, and so add to the household expenses—­in short, what could be more suitable in every way?  Mr. Bradshaw respected the very self-restraint he thought he saw in Mr. Farquhar’s demeanour, attributing it to a wise desire to wait until trade should be rather more slack, and the man of business more at leisure to become the lover.

As for Jemima, at times she thought she almost hated Mr. Farquhar.

“What business has he,” she would think, “to lecture me?  Often I can hardly bear it from papa, and I will not bear it from him.  He treats me just like a child, and as if I should lose all my present opinions when I know more of the world.  I am sure I should like never to know the world, if it was to make me think as he does, hard man that he is!  I wonder what made him take Jem Brown on as gardener again, if he does not believe that above one criminal in a thousand is restored to goodness.  I’ll ask him, some day, if that was not acting on impulse rather than principle.  Poor impulse! how you do get abused!  But I will tell Mr. Farquhar I will not let him interfere with me.  If I do what papa bids me, no one has a right to notice whether I do it willingly or not.”

So then she tried to defy Mr. Farquhar, by doing and saying things that she knew he would disapprove.  She went so far that he was seriously grieved, and did not even remonstrate and “lecture,” and then she was disappointed and irritated; for, somehow, with all her indignation at interference, she liked to be lectured by him; not that she was aware of this liking of hers, but still it would have been more pleasant to be scolded than so quietly passed over.  Her two little sisters, with their wide-awake eyes, had long ago put things together, and conjectured.  Every day they had some fresh mystery together, to be imparted in garden walks and whispered talks.