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Updated: June 15, 2025
The troubles of the Wishings were very familiar to Lilac's ears, and, though she took her knitting and sat down on her little stool close to her mother, she did not listen much to what she was saying.
She made her way out of the door, and stopped at the garden gate to call back over her shoulder: "Mind and bring no rubbish along with you. Nothing but clothes." Lilac's tears dropped fast into the painted deal box as she packed her small stock of clothes.
"Aye, that's where it is," said the cobbler with an approving nod; "that's what we've all on us got to do." His eye rested as he spoke on Lilac's eager face, and seizing the opportunity of a pause she rushed in with what she had so much on her mind: "Oh, Uncle Joshua! to-morrow's the day, and I can't get no white lilac for Miss Ellen to make my garland with. What shall I do?"
After these came the dusty high-road for a little while, and then she reached the foot of the steep hill which led up to her home. The artist gentleman was there as usual, a pipe in his mouth, and a palette on his thumb, painting busily: as she hurriedly dropped a curtsy in passing, Lilac's heart beat quite fast.
She seized Lilac's arm and they ran on together to the flat piece of ground on the edge of the wood, where the races were to take place. The steep side of the down descended abruptly from this, and Lilac knew that by taking that way, which was quite an easy one to her active feet, she could very quickly reach home.
It was natural, therefore, to repay Lilac's devotion by condescending patronage, and to look down on her from a great height; nevertheless it was extremely agreeable to Agnetta to be worshipped, and this made her seek her cousin's companionship, and invite her often to Orchards Farm.
A slip, a stop, a slide, another stop it was a very slow progress indeed. As they went jerking along the flowers fell off Lilac's dress one by one and left a white track behind her. She had taken off her crown and held it in her hand; its blossoms were drooping already, and its leaves folded up and limp.
"'Tain't any of it much good to me," she said, holding up a cotton gown to the light. "They're all cut so antiquated, and she was never anything of a figure. You may as well keep 'em, Lilac, and they'll come in for you later." It made Lilac's heart ache sorely to see her mother's clothes in Mrs Greenways' hands turned about and talked over. There was one gown in particular, with a blue spot.
"Lilac," said her aunt, "just run and fetch your uncle's slippers." She was already on her way when the farmer took his pipe out of his mouth and looked round. He had been moody and cross all supper-time, and now he glanced angrily at his two daughters as they sat whispering in the corner. "It's someone else's turn to run, it seems to me," he said; "Lilac's been at it all day. You go, Agnetta."
But don't call her Annie; we've got so many Annies in the parish already it's quite confusing and so many Whites too. We should have to say `Annie White on the hill' every time we spoke of her. I'm always mixing them up as it is. Don't call her Annie, Mrs White, Lilac's far better. Ask your husband what he thinks of it." "Oh!
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