"Cathy, how can you take off people so! I tell you I like the look of her."
"So do I. She has white teeth and bright eyes, which she knows how to use. Do you see the direction they are taking now? 'why tarry the wheels of his chariot!' Isn't that our waggonette coming up from Warstdale? Never mind my nonsense, Queenie; we must talk gossip sometimes in this dreary place. Mrs. Morris is very good-natured and very clever, and the seven little hopes are clean, wholesome children."
"Look! your brother is stopping to speak to them."
"Of course; as though he would pass the Palmers! You have no idea how fond the dear old ladies are of him. They pet him, and knit endless mittens and comforters for him; he has a drawer full, I believe. Look at them now, wagging their old heads and fluttering round him like a flock of grey pigeons; that is Miss Faith, his favorite, near him now."
"Faith; what a curious name!"
"Oh, they are all a cardinal virtue; they must have had devout parents. The eldest is Hope, then comes Prudence and Charity, and lastly, Faith. Faith is much the nicest and the prettiest; she is comparatively young too."
"I should like to go and see them."
"Then you shall, but not this afternoon; we shall only have time for the Fawcetts. Their house is full of curious odds and ends, and though they dress alike they have separate rooms, which they have furnished after their own taste. I must coax them to let you see them; it will give you an insight into their characters."
"And they have none of them married," exclaimed Queenie, with a girl's involuntary pity for the monotonous existence of single blessedness.
"How could they!" returned Cathy, with a puzzled elevation of her eyebrows. "They have lived in Hepshaw all their lives; they could not have possibly seen any gentleman except the Vicar, and I dare say he was married. You would not have a clergyman's daughter commit the unpardonable crime of entering into a mésalliance with the inn-keeper or the chemist!" continued Cathy, drawing down her lips at the corner, and speaking in a "prunes-and-prism" voice. "That is Miss Hope; and so the poor cardinal virtues have wasted all their sweetness on the desert air."