“That was a pretty young woman at the cottage, Mr. Barrister; but you must not fall in love with her. It will never do for professional men to make love-matches. Love in a cottage is very pretty, very poetical, very well to talk about.”
Markham protested that he had not the slightest notion of falling in love with a person who was a total stranger to him; but seriously, he could not but acknowledge that there was something very superior in the look and manner of the young woman, and that it might not have been impossible for him to have received an impression, had he met with a similar person in a suitable rank in life. He felt himself not well pleased that Mr. Martindale should have thought it within the verge of possibility that a gentleman of the bar should condescend so low as to fall in love with a young woman, the niece of a poor cottager. He forgot, however, that during the time he was in the cottage, he had his eyes very much fixed upon the old man’s niece; he forgot how very completely his attention had been absorbed; and while he was speculating as to the causes which operated in bringing so much elegance and gracefulness into so humble an abode, Mr. Martindale thought him occupied in admiring the young woman’s pretty face. There was certainly a tolerable share of that species of beauty called prettiness in the composition of her features; but as she rather exceeded the middle stature, and wore a general look of thoughtfulness, the word pretty was not comprehensive enough for a description of her person. When she appeared in the court as a witness, her fine glossy black ringlets were totally concealed, and her dark eyes were so bent towards the ground that their life and expression were not visible. Markham had observed her but little; thinking probably that his behaviour could not be more becoming than when it was totally and directly opposed to that of the defendant’s counsel. He was, therefore, not a little surprised when he saw so much beauty and gracefulness in one whom he had taken for a mere country girl; and his curiosity was still more raised when he observed the nature of the decorations of the poor man’s cottage. The charm which struck him most of all was, the total absence of all affectation or artifice both in the old man and in his niece. Richard Smith, indeed, used language superior in ordinary correctness to that of the usual inhabitants of cottages, but did not give himself airs, as some poor men who fancy themselves conjurers, because they happen to be a little better informed than their neighbours; and the young woman appeared quite as free from any species of affectation, either of manner or of dress.
CHAPTER V.
“And, madam, if it be a lie,
You have the tale as cheap as I.”
Swift.
The Rev. Cornelius Denver, perpetual curate of Brigland, was one of the best-tempered creatures in the world. He would not injure any one; he had almost every one’s good word; he was full of smiles and courtesy; he had nothing of the pomp or pride of priestly manners; he did not keep his parishioners at an awful distance, or affect to exercise any spiritual dominion over them by virtue of his calling; he was familiar with all, and good-humoured to all; he had not the slightest tincture of bigotry or party-spirit; in politics and religion he was most truly liberal; he had, of course, his own opinions on these subjects, but he called them into use so seldom, that he and his neighbours scarcely knew what they were; he was equally obliging to all parties, and there were many differing sects of religion in his parish; every possible variety of sectarianism flourished at Brigland, and they all united in praising the curate’s liberality.
There were also many members of the established church in the parish; but though they all praised their curate, they did not all very frequently attend his ministrations. Old Mr. Martindale used facetiously to say, that he should go to church much oftener if Mr. Denver would make longer sermons, but that it was so tantalising to be woke before his nap was half finished. But Mr. Denver served two other churches beside Brigland, and one of them was almost eight miles distant, so he had not much time to spare on Sunday; for he had two services at his own parish, and one every Sunday at the other two.