CHAPTER XIV. THE RECTOR

Thefollowingdaywasasfineastheprecedingone.SoonafterbreakfastMissMatilda,havinggallopedandblunderedthroughafewunprofitablelessons,andvengeablythumpedthepianoforanhour,inaterriblehumourwithbothmeandit,becausehermammawouldnotgiveheraholiday,hadbetakenherselftoherfavouriteplacesofresort,theyards,thestables,andthedog-kennelsandMissMurraywasgoneforthtoenjoyaquietramblewithanewfashionablenovelforhercompanion,leavingmeintheschoolroomhardatworkuponawater-colourdrawingwhichIhadpromisedtodoforher,andwhichsheinsisteduponmyfinishingthatday. Atmyfeetlayalittleroughterrier.ItwasthepropertyofMissMatildabutshehatedtheanimal,andintendedtosellit,allegingthatitwasquitespoiled.Itwasreallyanexcellentdogofitskindbutsheaffirmeditwasfitfornothing,andhadnoteventhesensetoknowitsownmistress. Thefactwasshehadpurchaseditwhenbutasmallpuppy,insistingatfirstthatnooneshouldtouchitbutherselfbutsoonbecomingtiredofsohelplessandtroublesomeanursling,shehadgladlyyieldedtomyentreatiestobeallowedtotakechargeofitandI,bycarefullynursingthelittlecreaturefrominfancytoadolescence,ofcourse,hadobtaineditsaffections:arewardIshouldhavegreatlyvalued,andlookeduponasfaroutweighingallthetroubleIhadhadwithit,hadnotpoorSnap’sgratefulfeelingsexposedhimtomanyaharshwordandmanyaspitefulkickandpinchfromhisowner,andwerehenotnowindangerofbeing“putaway”inconsequence,ortransferredtosomerough,stony-heartedmaster.ButhowcouldIhelpit?Icouldnotmakethedoghatemebycrueltreatment,andshewouldnotpropitiatehimbykindness. However,whileIthussat,workingawaywithmypencil,Mrs.Murraycame,half-sailing,half-bustling,intotheroom. “MissGrey,”shebegan,—“dear!howcanyousitatyourdrawingsuchadayasthis?”(ShethoughtIwasdoingitformyownpleasure.)“Iwonderyoudon’tputonyourbonnetandgooutwiththeyoungladies.” “Ithink,ma’am,MissMurrayisreadingandMissMatildaisamusingherselfwithherdogs.” “IfyouwouldtrytoamuseMissMatildayourselfalittlemore,Ithinkshewouldnotbedriventoseekamusementinthecompanionshipofdogsandhorsesandgrooms,somuchassheisandifyouwouldbealittlemorecheerfulandconversablewithMissMurray,shewouldnotsooftengowanderinginthefieldswithabookinherhand.However,Idon’twanttovexyou,”addedshe,seeing,Isuppose,thatmycheeksburnedandmyhandtrembledwithsomeunamiableemotion.“Do,pray,trynottobesotouchy—there’snospeakingtoyouelse.AndtellmeifyouknowwhereRosalieisgone:andwhyshelikestobesomuchalone?” “Shesaysshelikestobealonewhenshehasanewbooktoread.” “Butwhycan’tshereaditintheparkorthegarden?—whyshouldshegointothefieldsandlanes?AndhowisitthatthatMr.Hatfieldsooftenfindsherout?Shetoldmelastweekhe’dwalkedhishorsebyhersideallupMossLaneandnowI’msureitwasheIsaw,frommydressing-roomwindow,walkingsobrisklypastthepark-gates,andontowardsthefieldwhereshesofrequentlygoes.Iwishyouwouldgoandseeifsheisthereandjustgentlyremindherthatitisnotproperforayoungladyofherrankandprospectstobewanderingaboutbyherselfinthatmanner,exposedtotheattentionsofanyonethatpresumestoaddressherlikesomepoorneglectedgirlthathasnoparktowalkin,andnofriendstotakecareofher:andtellherthatherpapawouldbeextremelyangryifheknewofhertreatingMr.HatfieldinthefamiliarmannerthatIfearshedoesand—oh!ifyou—ifanygovernesshadbuthalfamother’swatchfulness—halfamother’sanxiouscare,Ishouldbesavedthistroubleandyouwouldseeatoncethenecessityofkeepingyoureyeuponher,andmakingyourcompanyagreeableto—Well,go—gothere’snotimetobelost,”criedshe,seeingthatIhadputawaymydrawingmaterials,andwaswaitinginthedoorwayfortheconclusionofheraddress. Accordingtoherprognostications,IfoundMissMurrayinherfavouritefieldjustwithouttheparkand,unfortunately,notaloneforthetall,statelyfigureofMr.Hatfieldwasslowlysaunteringbyherside. Herewasaposerforme.Itwasmydutytointerruptthetête-à-tête:buthowwasittobedone?Mr.HatfieldcouldnottobedrivenawaybysoinsignificantpersonasIandtogoandplacemyselfontheothersideofMissMurray,andintrudemyunwelcomepresenceuponherwithoutnoticinghercompanion,wasapieceofrudenessIcouldnotbeguiltyof:neitherhadIthecouragetocryaloudfromthetopofthefieldthatshewaswantedelsewhere.SoItooktheintermediatecourseofwalkingslowlybutsteadilytowardsthemresolving,ifmyapproachfailedtoscareawaythebeau,topassbyandtellMissMurrayhermammawantedher. Shecertainlylookedverycharmingasshestrolled,lingeringalongunderthebuddinghorse-chestnuttreesthatstretchedtheirlongarmsoverthepark-palingswithherclosedbookinonehand,andintheotheragracefulsprigofmyrtle,whichservedherasaveryprettyplaythingherbrightringletsescapingprofuselyfromherlittleb