Mrs. Hartopp now bent over Sophy, and acknowledging that the face was singularly pretty, glanced graciously towards the husband, and said, “I see the likeness!” then to Sophy, “I fear you are tired, my dear: you must not overfatigue yourself; and you must take milk fresh from the cow every morning.” And now the bailiff’s wife came briskly out, a tidy, fresh-coloured, kind-faced woman, fond of children; the more so because she had none of her own. So they entered the farm-yard, Mrs. Hartopp being the chief talker; and she, having pointed out to Sophy the cows and the turkeys, the hen-coops, and the great China gander, led her by the one hand--while Sophy’s other hand clung firmly to Waife’s’--across the little garden, with its patent bee-hives, into the house, took off her bonnet, and kissed her. “Very like Mary Anne!--Mary Anne, dear.” One of the two children owning that name approached,--snub-nosed, black-eyed, with cheeks like peonies. “This little girl, my Mary Anne, was as pale as you,--over-study; and now, my dear child, you must try and steal a little of her colour. Don’t you think my Mary Anne is like her papa, Mr. Chapman?” “Like me!” exclaimed the Mayor, whispering Waife, “image of her mother! the same intellectual look!” Said the artful actor, “Indeed, ma’am, the young lady has her father’s mouth and eyebrows, but that acute, sensible expression is yours,--quite yours. Sir Isaac, make a bow to the young lady, and then, sir, go through the sword exercise!” The dog, put upon his tricks, delighted the children; and the poor actor, though his heart lay in his breast like lead, did his best to repay benevolence by mirth. Finally, much pleased, Mrs. Hartopp took her husband’s arm to depart. The children, on being separated from Sir Isaac, began to cry. The Mayor interrupted his wife,--who, if left to herself, would have scolded them into worse crying,--told Mary Anne that he relied on her strong intellect to console her brother Tom; observed to Tom that it was not like his manly nature to set an example of weeping to his sister; and contrived thus to flatter their tears away in a trice, and sent them forward in a race to the turnstile.