We went into the other room to dinner—a plain dinner of roast veal and ham, and a damson tart, all nicely cooked and served, with a well-dressed maid-servant to wait upon us. Altogether the house seemed thoroughly well conducted; a pleasant, plentiful home, and where they certainly lived as quiet gentlepeople, not for show, but for comfort. Mr. Hemson went downstairs after dinner, and we returned to the drawing-room.
"Anne," Mrs. Hemson said, smiling at me, "you have appeared all amaze since you came into the house. What is the reason?"
I coloured very much; but she pressed the question.
"It is—a better house than I expected, ma'am."
"What! did they prejudice you against me?" she laughed. "Did your mamma do that?"
"Mamma told me nothing. It was my Aunt Selina. She said you had raised a barrier between—between——"
"Between myself and the Carews," she interrupted, filling up the pause. "They say I lost caste in marrying Mr. Hemson. And so I did. But—do you like him, Anne?"
"Very, very much. He seems quite a gentleman."
"He is a gentleman in all respects save one; but that is one which people cannot get over, rendering it impossible for them to meet him as an equal. Anne, when I became acquainted with Mr. Hemson, I did not know he was in trade. Not that he intentionally deceived me, you must understand; he is a man of nice honour, incapable of deceit; but it fell out so. We were in a strange place, both far away from home, and what our relative position might be at home never happened to be alluded to by either of us. By the time I heard who and what he was, a silk-mercer and linendraper, I had learnt to value him above all else in the world. After that, he asked me to be his wife."
"And you agreed?"