CHAPTER XIII. THE PRIMROSES

einmyendeavours(ifIdidkeepupwiththem)toappearperfectlyunconsciousorregardlessoftheirpresence,asifIwerewhollyabsorbedinmyownreflections,orthecontemplationofsurroundingobjectsor,ifIlingeredbehind,itwassomebirdorinsect,sometreeorflower,thatattractedmyattention,andhavingdulyexaminedthat,Iwouldpursuemywalkalone,ataleisurelypace,untilmypupilshadbiddenadieutotheircompanionsandturnedoffintothequietprivateroad. OnesuchoccasionIparticularlywellrememberitwasalovelyafternoonaboutthecloseofMarchMr.Greenandhissistershadsenttheircarriagebackempty,inordertoenjoythebrightsunshineandbalmyairinasociablewalkhomealongwiththeirvisitors,CaptainSomebodyandLieutenantSomebody-else(acoupleofmilitaryfops),andtheMissesMurray,who,ofcourse,contrivedtojointhem.SuchapartywashighlyagreeabletoRosaliebutnotfindingitequallysuitabletomytaste,Ipresentlyfellback,andbegantobotaniseandentomologisealongthegreenbanksandbuddinghedges,tillthecompanywasconsiderablyinadvanceofme,andIcouldhearthesweetsongofthehappylarkthenmyspiritofmisanthropybegantomeltawaybeneaththesoft,pureairandgenialsunshinebutsadthoughtsofearlychildhood,andyearningsfordepartedjoys,orforabrighterfuturelot,aroseinstead.Asmyeyeswanderedoverthesteepbankscoveredwithyounggrassandgreen-leavedplants,andsurmountedbybuddinghedges,Ilongedintenselyforsomefamiliarflowerthatmightrecallthewoodydalesorgreenhill-sidesofhome:thebrownmoorlands,ofcourse,wereoutofthequestion.Suchadiscoverywouldmakemyeyesgushoutwithwater,nodoubtbutthatwasoneofmygreatestenjoymentsnow.AtlengthIdescried,highupbetweenthetwistedrootsofanoak,threelovelyprimroses,peepingsosweetlyfromtheirhiding-placethatthetearsalreadystartedatthesightbuttheygrewsohighaboveme,thatItriedinvaintogatheroneortwo,todreamoverandtocarrywithme:IcouldnotreachthemunlessIclimbedthebank,whichIwasdeterredfromdoingbyhearingafootstepatthatmomentbehindme,andwas,therefore,abouttoturnaway,whenIwasstartledbythewords,“Allowmetogatherthemforyou,MissGrey,”spokeninthegrave,lowtonesofawell-knownvoice.Immediatelytheflowersweregathered,andinmyhand.ItwasMr.Weston,ofcourse—whoelsewouldtroublehimselftodosomuchforme? “Ithankedhimwhetherwarmlyorcoldly,Icannottell:butcertainIamthatIdidnotexpresshalfthegratitudeIfelt.Itwasfoolish,perhaps,tofeelanygratitudeatallbutitseemedtome,atthatmoment,asifthiswerearemarkableinstanceofhisgood-n