The five Misses Cartwright did not greatly relish the change; they were disposed even to resist, to hold their ground on the verge of St. Luke’s, to toll their father that he must do his duty and still maintain them in that station of life for which they were clearly designed by Providence.  But Mr. Cartwright, after many cries of ‘Wolf,’ found himself veritably at close quarters with the animal, and female argument had to yield to the logic of fact.  ‘Be thankful,’ exclaimed the hard-driven paterfamilias, when his long patience came to an end, ’that we haven’t all to go to the Union.  It ’ll come to that yet, mark my word!’ And, indeed, few people in Dunfield would have expressed surprise at the actual incidence of this calamity.  Mr. Cartwright was ostensibly a commercial traveller, but obviously he must have joined with this main pursuit many odds and ends of money-making activity, seeing that the family kept out of debt, and still indulged themselves in extravagances which many substantial households would have declared themselves unable to afford.  If the town were visited by an opera company, or by some dramatic star going the round of the provinces, the Cartwrights were sure to have prominent seats, and to exhibit themselves in becoming costume.  If a bazaar were held, their ready-money was always forthcoming.  At flower shows, galas, croquet parties, they challenged comparison with all who were not confessedly of the Dunfield elite.  They regularly adorned their pew in the parish church, were liberal at offertories, exerted themselves, not without expense, in the Sunday school feast, and the like.  How—­cried all Dunfield—­how in the name of wonder was it done?

We are not concerned to probe the mystery; suffice it that the situation be exhibited as it appeared to the eyes of the world.  When the afore-mentioned crisis declared itself, though every one enjoyed the opportunity of exclaiming ‘I told you so!’ there were few who did not feel really sorry for the Cartwrights, so little of envy mingled with the incessant gossip of which the family were the subject.  Mrs. Cartwright was held in more or less affection by every one who knew her.  She was a woman of fifty, of substantial frame, florid, and somewhat masculine in manner; a thorough Yorkshire-woman, her tone and demeanour were marked by a frank good-nature which often exaggerated itself into bluffness, and was never consistent with the delicacy of refined taste, but which unmistakably evinced a sound and benevolent disposition.  When her sharp temper was stirred—­and her daughters gave it abundant exercise—­she expressed herself in a racy and vigorous vernacular which there was no opposing; never coarse, never, in the large sense, unwomanly, she made her predominance felt with an emphasis which would fain have been rivalled by many of the mothers of Dunfield.  Lavishly indulgent to her girls, she yet kept them thoroughly in hand, and won, if not their tenderness, at all