I left her. Closing the door of my room gently, I thought: "Ben is a good man; but for all that, I feel like blind Sampson just now. Could I lay my hands on the pillars which supported the temple he has built, I would wrench them from their foundation and surprise him by toppling the roof on his head."
His arrival was delayed for a few days. When he came Surrey looked its best, for it was June; and though the winds were chilly, the grass was grown and the orchard leaves were crowding off the blossoms. The woods were vividly green. The fauns were playing there, and the sirens sang under the sea. But I had other thoughts; the fauns and sirens were not for me, perplexed as I was with household cares. Hepsey proposed staying another year, but I was firm; and she went, begging Fanny to go with her and be as a daughter. She declined; but the proposition influenced her to be troublesome to me. She told me she was of age now, and that no person had a right to control her. At present she was useful where she was, and might remain.
"Will you have wages?" I asked her.
"That is Mr. Morgeson's business."
My anger would have pleased her, so I concealed it.
"Your ability, Fanny, is better than your disposition. Me,—you do not suit at all; but it is certain that father depends on you for his small comforts, and Veronica likes you. I wish you would stay."
She placed her arms akimbo.
"I should like to find you out, exactly. I can't. I never could find out your mother; all the rest of you are as clear as daylight." And she snapped her fingers as if 'the rest' were between them.
"You lack faith."
"You believe that this is a beautiful world, don't you? I hate it. I should think you had reason, too, for hating it. Pray what have you got?"