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“Then manage so as you may stay tea； Priscilla；” said Nancy；
putting her hand on her sister’s arm affectionately。 “Come now；
and we’ll go round the garden while father has his nap。”
“My dear child； he’ll have a beautiful nap in the gig； for I shall
drive。 And as for staying tea； I can’t hear of it； for there’s this
dairymaid； now she knows she’s to be married； turned
Michaelmas； she’d as lief pour the new milk into the pig…trough as
into the pans。 That’s the way with ’em all： it’s as if they thought
the world ’ud be new…made because they’re to be married。 So
come and let me put my bonnet on； and there’ll be time for us to
walk round the garden while the horse is being put in。”
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When the sisters were treading the neatly swept garden…walks；
between the bright turf that contrasted pleasantly with the dark
cones and arches and wall…like hedges of yew； Priscilla said—“I’m
as glad as anything at your husband’s making that exchange o’
land with cousin Osgood； and beginning the dairying。 It’s a
thousand pities you didn’t do it before； for it’ll give you something
to fill your mind。 There’s nothing like a dairy if folks want a bit o’
worrit to make the days pass。 For as for rubbing furniture； when
you can once see your face in a table there’s nothing else to look
for； but there’s always something fresh with the dairy； for even in
the depths o’ winter there’s some pleasure in conquering the
butter； and making it come whether or no。 My dear；” added
Priscilla； pressing her sister’s hand affectionately as they walked
side by side； “you’ll never be low when you’ve got a dairy。”
“Ah； Priscilla；” said Nancy； returning the pressure with a
grateful glance of her clear eyes； “but it won’t make up to Godfrey：
a dairy’s not so much to a man。 And it’s only what he cares for that
ever makes me low。 I’m contented with the blessings we have； if
he could be contented。”
“It drives me past patience；” said Priscilla； impetuously； “that
way o’ the men—always wanting and wanting； and never easy
with what they’ve got： they can’t sit comfortable in their chairs
when they’ve neither ache nor pain； but either they must stick a
pipe in their mouths； to make ’em better than well； or else they
must be swallowing something strong； though they’re forced to
make haste before the next meal comes in。 But joyful be it spoken；
our father was never that sort o’ man。 And if it had pleased God to
make you ugly； like me； so as the men wouldn’t ha’ run after you；
we might have kept to our own family； and had nothing to do with
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folks as have got uneasy blood in their veins。”
“Oh； don’t say so； Priscilla；” said Nancy； repenting that she had
called forth this outburst； “nobody has any occasion to find fault
with Godfrey。 It’s natural he should be disappointed at not having
any children： every man likes to have somebody to work for and
lay by for； and he always counted so on making a fuss with ’em
when they were little。 There’s many another man ’ud hanker more
than he does。 He’s the best of husbands。”
“Oh； I know；” said Priscilla； smiling sarcastically； “I know the
way o’ wives； they set one on to abuse their husbands； and then
they turn round on one and praise ’em as if they wanted to sell
’em。 But father’ll be waiting for me； we must turn now。”
The large gig with the steady old gray was at the front door； and
Mr。 Lammeter was already on the stone steps； passing the time in
recalling to Godfrey what very fine points Speckle had when his
master used to ride him。
“I always would have a good horse； you know；” said the old
gentleman； not liking that spirited time to be quite effaced from
the memory of his juniors。
“Mind you bring Nancy to the Warrens before the week’s out；
Mr。 Cass；” was Priscilla’s parting injunction； as she took the reins；
and shook them gently； by way of friendly incitement to Speckle。
“I shall just take a turn to the fields against the Stone…pits；
Nancy； and look at the draining；” said Godfrey。
“You’ll be in again by teatime； dear？”
“Oh yes； I shall be back in an hour。”
It was Godfrey’s custom on a Sunday afternoon to do a little
contemplative farming in a leisurely walk。 Nancy seldom
accompanied him； for the women of her generation—unless； like
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Priscilla； they took to outdoor management—were not given to
much walking beyond their own house and garden； finding
sufficient exercise in domestic duties。 So； when Priscilla was not
with her； she usually sat with Mant’s Bible before her； and after
following the text with her eyes for a little while； she would
gradually permit them to wander as her thoughts had already
insisted on wandering。
But Nancy’s Sunday thoughts were rarely quite out of keeping
with the devout and reverential intention implied by the book
spread open before her。 She was not theologically instructed
enough to discern very clearly the relation between the sacred
documents of the past which she opened without method； and her
own obscure； simple life； but the spirit of rectitude； and the sense
of responsibility for the effect of her conduct on others； which
were strong elements in Nancy’s character； had made it a habit
with her to scrutinise her past feelings and actions with self…
questioning solicitude。 Her mind not being courted by a great
variety of subjects； she filled the vacant moments by living
inwardly； again and again； through all her remembered
experience； especially through the fifteen years of her married
time； in which her life and its significance had been doubled。 She
recalled the small details； the words； tones； and looks； in the
critical scenes which had opened a new epoch for her by giving
her a deeper insight into the relations and trials of life； or which
had called on her for some little effort of forbearance； or of painful
adherence to an imagined or real duty—asking herself continually
whether she had been in any respect blameable。 This excessive
rumination and self…questioning is perhaps a morbid habit
inevitable to a mind of much moral sensibility when shut out from
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its due share of outward activity and of practical claims on its
affections—inevitable to a noble…hearted； childless woman； when
her lot is narrow。 “I can do so little—have I done it all well？” is the
perpetually recurring thought； and there are no voices calling her
away from that soliloquy； no peremptory demands to divert
energy from vain regret or superfluous scruple。
There was one main thread of painful experience in Nancy’s
married life； and on it hung certain deeply felt scenes； which were
the oftenest revived in retrospect。 The short dialogue with
Priscilla in the garden had determined the current of retrospect in
that frequent direct