"People generally confuse the two. Determination will hear reason, and obstinacy won't. Obstinacy sticks to what it has said, just because it has said it. That is Hermione all over."
Julia could not question the assertion. She was aware of its truth.
"The fact is," Harvey added, "I particularly wish Hermione to go with us, and I look to you to bring it about."
"Would you mind so very much if she paid a visit to the Fitzalans instead?"
"Yes; and she will not go to them. I have had a few words with Mr. Fitzalan; but don't mention this. He thinks with me that it is too soon for a break, and that she will shake down better among us if we have a few more weeks together—especially away from Westford. There has been too much talk among the good folks here as to her real and supposed troubles."
"Yes—perhaps—" Julia began, and paused. "Francesca will have it that Hermione gossips with the old women in the cottages."
"It is not supposed to be gossip, but I dare say she manages to look pathetic, and to work on their feelings. I want to get her out of it all for a time."
"I don't see what I am to do."
"You must arrange it, my dear, one way or another. Women can always manage these things. I should be extremely annoyed if Hermione stayed behind just now. It would give additional colour to a great deal of nonsense that is talked about her and us. And you must contrive somehow to hinder Francesca from exciting her."
Two "musts" easy to utter, but hard to carry out—how hard Julia knew too well. She made no further protests, however, only gave herself up to consideration of the difficulty. The top of the hill was reached, and John swung himself up behind. Then they were off again at full speed, trees and hedges sweeping past unnoticed by Julia in her abstraction.