Clergy -- Fiction; England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
with small mats, which would always be ready if you ever wanted to set
anything on them! And what styptic for a bleeding heart can equal copious
squares of _crochet_, which are useful for slipping down the moment you
touch them? How our fathers managed without _crochet_ is the wonder; but
I believe some small and feeble substitute existed in their time under
the name of ‘tatting’. Rebecca Linnet, however, had neglected tatting as
well as other forms of fancy-work. At school, to be sure, she had spent a
great deal of time in acquiring flower-painting, according to the
ingenious method then fashionable, of applying the shapes of leaves and
flowers cut out in cardboard, and scrubbing a brush over the surface thus
conveniently marked out; but even the spill-cases and hand-screens which
were her last half-year’s performances in that way were not considered
eminently successful, and had long been consigned to the retirement of
the best bedroom. Thus there was a good deal of family unlikeness between
Rebecca and her sister, and I am afraid there was also a little family
dislike; but Mary’s disapproval had usually been kept imprisoned behind
her thin lips, for Rebecca was not only of a headstrong disposition, but
was her mother’s pet; the old lady being herself stout, and preferring a
more showy style of cap than she could prevail on her daughter Mary to
make up for her.
But I have been describing Miss Rebecca as she was in former days only,
for her appearance this evening, as she sits pasting on the green
tickets, is in striking contrast with what it was three or four months
ago. Her plain grey gingham dress and plain white collar could never have
belonged to her wardrobe before that date; and though she is not reduced
in size, and her brown hair will do nothing but hang in crisp ringlets
down her large cheeks, there is a change in her air and expression which
seems to shed a softened light over her person, and make her look like a
peony in the shade, instead of the same flower flaunting in a parterre in
the hot sunlight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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