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NobetterplacethanSymfordcanbeimaginedforthoseinsearchofaspot,picturesqueandwithcreepers,wheretheymayspendquietyearsguidingtheirfeetalongthewayofpeace.ItisoneoftheprettiestofEnglishvillages.Itdoesandhasandiseverythingtheidealvillageoughtto.Itnestles,forinstance,inthefoldsofhillsitisverysmall,andfarawayfromotherplacesitscottagesareoldandthatcheditslittleinnistheinnofastory-book,withaquaintsignboardandanapparentlygeniallandlorditschurchstandsbeautifullyonrisinggroundamongancienttrees,besidesbeinghoaryitsvicarageissocharmingthattoseeitmakesyoulongtomarryavicaritsvicarisvenerable,withaneyesomildthattocatchitistoreceiveablessingpleasantlittlechildrenwithhappymorningfacespickbutter-cupsandgoa-nuttingattheproperseasonsandcurtseytoyouasyoupassoldwomenwithcleancapsandsuitablefacesreadtheirBiblesbehindlatticedwindowshearthsarescrubbedandsnowyappropriatekettlessimmeronhobsclimbingrosesandtrimgardensareabundantandithasaladybountifulofsountiringakindnessthateachofitsfemaleinhabitantsgetsanewflannelpetticoateveryChristmasandnothingisaskedofherinreturnbutthatsheshall,duringtheensuingyear,bewarmandhappyandgood.Thesamethingwasasked,Ibelieve,ofthemaleinhabitants,whogetcomforters,andalsothattheyshoulddrinkseltzer-waterwhenevertheirlowernaturesurgedthemtodrinkrumbutcomfortersaresomuchsmallerthanpetticoatsthatthemenofSymford'ssenseofjusticerebelled,andsincetheonlytimetheyeverfeltreallywarmandhappyandgoodwaswhentheyweredrinkingrumtheydecidedthatonthewholeitwouldbemoreinaccordancewiththeirbenefactress'swishestogoondoingit.
LadyShuttleworth,theladyfromwhomthesecomfortersandpetticoatsproceeded,wasajustwomanwhorequirednomoreofothersthansherequiredofherself,andwhowasbusyandkind,and,Iamsurehappyandgood,oncoldwater.ButthenshedidnotlikerumandIsupposetherearefewthingsquitesoeasyasnottodrinkrumifyoudon'tlikeit.ShelivedatSymfordHall,twomilesawayinanotherfoldofthehills,andmanagedtheestateofhersonwhowasaminor—atthistimeontheveryvergeofceasingtobeone—withgreatprecisionandskill.AlltheoldcottagesinSymfordwerehis,andsowerethefarmsdottedaboutthehills.Anyone,therefore,seekingacottagewouldhavetoaddresshimselftotheShuttleworthagent,Mr.Dawson,whotoolivedinahousesopicturesquethatmerelytoseeitmadeyoulongeithertopoisonortomarryMr.Dawson—preferably,Ithink,topoisonhim.
Thesefacts,strippedoftheredundanceswithwhichIhavegarnishedthem,weretoldFritzingonthedayafterhisarrivalatBaker'sFarmbyMrs.Pearcetheyounger,oldMr.Pearce'sdaughter-in-law,adrearywomanwitharentinherapron,whobroughtinthebaconforFritzing'ssolitarybreakfastandthechopforhissolitaryluncheon.ShealsobroughtinajunketsoliquidthattheinnocentFritzingtoldherpolitelythathealwaysdrankhismilkoutofaglasswhenhediddrinkmilk,butthat,asheneverdiddrinkmilk,sheneednottroubletobringhimany.
"Sir,"saidMrs.Pearceinherslowsadvoice,afteraglanceathisfaceinsearchofsarcasm,"'tisn'tmilk.'Tisajunketthathasn'tjunked."
"Indeed?"saidFritzing,blandbecauseignorant.
Mrs.Pearcefidgetedalittle,wrestlingperhapswithherconscience,beforesheaddeddefiantly,"Itwouldn't."
"Indeed?"saidFritzingoncemoreandhelookedatthejunketthroughhisspectacleswiththatairofextremeandintelligentinterestwithwhichpersonswhowishtopleaselookatotherpeople'sbabies.
HewasdesirousofbeingongoodtermswithSymford,andhadbeenverypleasantallthemorningtoMrs.Pearce.Thatmoodinwhich,shakenhimselftohisfoundationsbyanxiety,hehadshakenhisfisttoAnnalise,wasgoneascompletelyasyesterday'swetmist.ThegoldensunshineofOctoberlaybeautifullyamongthegentlehillsandseemedtolieaswellinFritzing'sheart.Hehadgonethroughsomuchforsomanyweeksthatmerelytobefreefromworriesforthemomentfilledhimwiththankfulness.Somayhefeelwhohaslivedthroughdaysofbodilytortureinthatfirsthourwhenhispainhasgone:beaten,crushed,andcowedbysuffering,hemeltswithgratitudebecauseheisbeingleftalone,hegaspswithareliefsoutterthatitisalmostabjectpraiseoftheCrueltythathasforalittlelooseneditshold