The Mill on the Floss — John Stuart Mill — John Shaqi
The Mill on the Floss
John Stuart Mill · en
All well-dressed St Ogg’s and its neighbourhood were there; and it
would have been worth while to come even from a distance, to see the
fine old hall, with its open roof and carved oaken rafters, and great
oaken folding-doors, and light shed down from a height on the
many-coloured show beneath; a very quaint place, with broad faded
stripes painted on the walls, and here and there a show of heraldic
animals of a bristly, long-snouted character, the cherished emblems of
a noble family once the seigniors of this now civic hall. A grand arch,
cut in the upper wall at one end, surmounted an oaken orchestra, with
an open room behind it, where hothouse plants and stalls for
refreshments were disposed; an agreeable resort for gentlemen disposed
to loiter, and yet to exchange the occasional crush down below for a
more commodious point of view. In fact, the perfect fitness of this
ancient building for an admirable modern purpose, that made charity
truly elegant, and led through vanity up to the supply of a deficit,
was so striking that hardly a person entered the room without
exchanging the remark more than once. Near the great arch over the
orchestra was the stone oriel with painted glass, which was one of the
venerable inconsistencies of the old hall; and it was close by this
that Lucy had her stall, for the convenience of certain large plain
articles which she had taken charge of for Mrs Kenn. Maggie had begged
to sit at the open end of the stall, and to have the sale of these
articles rather than of bead-mats and other elaborate products of which
she had but a dim understanding. But it soon appeared that the
gentlemen’s dressing-gowns, which were among her commodities, were
objects of such general attention and inquiry, and excited so
troublesome a curiosity as to their lining and comparative merits,
together with a determination to test them by trying on, as to make her
post a very conspicuous one. The ladies who had commodities of their
own to sell, and did not want dressing-gowns, saw at once the frivolity
and bad taste of this masculine preference for goods which any tailor
could furnish; and it is possible that the emphatic notice of various
kinds which was drawn toward Miss Tulliver on this public occasion,
threw a very strong and unmistakable light on her subsequent conduct in
many minds then present. Not that anger, on account of spurned beauty
can dwell in the celestial breasts of charitable ladies, but rather
that the errors of persons who have once been much admired necessarily
take a deeper tinge from the mere force of contrast; and also, that
to-day Maggie’s conspicuous position, for the first time, made evident
certain characteristics which were subsequently felt to have an
explanatory bearing. There was something rather bold in Miss Tulliver’s
direct gaze, and something undefinably coarse in the style of her
beauty, which placed her, in the opinion of all feminine judges, far