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"I am sure you did not," said the Colonel kindly. "But- but," she said, bewildered, "if- if you mean Esther- why did you send her over last night, and let him go out to find her now." "She is safe, reading to Mrs. Coffinkey," said Ellen. "I did not know Robert was at home, or I should not have let her come without me." "Esther is a very dear, sweet-looking girl," said Caroline.
The elders of the walking party came in with hands full of flowers, namely, the two Johns and Eleanor, but ominously enough, Bobus was not there. He had been lost sight of soon after they had met. Yes, and at that moment he was loitering at a safe distance from the door of the now invalid and half-blind Mrs. Coffinkey, to whom the Brownlow girls read by turns.
Esther had lived much less than her elder sister in the Coffinkey atmosphere, and there was nothing to mar the peculiar dignified innocence and perfect unconsciousness of her sweet maidenly bloom. She never guessed that every man, and every woman too, was admiring her, except the strong-minded one who saw in her the true inane Raffaelesque Madonna on whom George Eliot is so severe.
Coffinkey, escorted by her maid, was walking primly home from drinking tea at the vicarage. Still Mary's reflections only strengthened her resolution. On the next day, which was Sunday, she ascended to the Folly, at about four o'clock in the afternoon, and found the family, including the parrot, spread out upon the lawn under the shade of the acacia, the mother reading to them.
Caroline did not choose to endure this, and went to fetch her in, thus producing such a screaming, kicking, rolling fury that Mrs. Coffinkey might have some colour for the statement that Mrs. Folly Brownlow was murdering all her children.
And as for Captain Coffinkey, he was a decent man when I kent him, only he used to swear awfully But he's dead, and gaen to his account, and I trust he's accepted I trust he's accepted."
Rigby was an inferior woman, a sworn member of the Coffinkey clique, admiring and looking up to her Serene Highness as the great lady of the place, and wearing an almost abject manner when receiving good counsels from her. Neither of them commanded respect, nor were they likely to change the belief, which prevailed at the Folly, that all ability resided among the London clergy.
Before Caroline's fierce, incredulous indignation had found a word, Jessie had exclaimed "Mamma!" in a tone of strong remonstrance; then, "Never mind, Aunt Carey, I know it is only Mrs. Coffinkey, and Johnny promised he would tell the whole story if any one brought that horrid nonsense to you about poor little Armine."
Barnes save his doctor, whose carriage was the only one admitted within the lodge gates, intending visitors being there informed that Mr. Barnes was too unwell to be disturbed. Mrs. "Folly" Brownlow's aberrations lost their interest in the Coffinkey world beside the mystery of Belforest.
She lived conveniently up a lane not much frequented. This was the colloquy which ensued when the tall, well-proportioned maiden, with her fresh, modest, happy face, tripped down the steps: "So the Coffinkey is unlocked at last! Stern Proserpine relented!" "Robert! You here?" "You never used to call me Robert." "Mamma says it is time to leave off the other."
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