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Updated: June 7, 2025
Never have a Miggs about you! With this advice he kissed his blooming daughter on the cheek, and slowly repaired to Mrs Varden's room; where that lady, lying all pale and languid on her couch, was refreshing herself with a sight of her last new bonnet, which Miggs, as a means of calming her scattered spirits, displayed to the best advantage at her bedside. 'Here's master, mim, said Miggs.
This little incident, illustrative though it was of Mrs Varden's extraordinary sweetness and amiability, had so strong a tendency to check the conversation and to disconcert all parties but that excellent lady, that only a few monosyllables were uttered until Edward withdrew; which he presently did, thanking the lady of the house a great many times for her condescension, and whispering in Dolly's ear that he would call on the morrow, in case there should happen to be an answer to the note which, indeed, she knew without his telling, as Barnaby and his friend Grip had dropped in on the previous night to prepare her for the visit which was then terminating.
This was Gabriel Varden's state, as, nodding in his dog sleep, and leaving his horse to pursue a road with which he was well acquainted, he got over the ground unconsciously, and drew nearer and nearer home.
I wouldn't have him interfered with on any account, poor fellow. And here the locksmith laughed again so heartily, that tears came into his eyes much to Mrs Varden's indignation, who thought the capture of so sound a Protestant and estimable a private character as Miggs by a pagan negro, a circumstance too shocking and awful for contemplation.
The comrade sent me up to Varden's room, where I found the latter just getting out of bed. I shall always think of him in his proletarian grey woollen underdrawers and undershirt. In which he had evidently slept. He had the bed-habits of the masses. And the room was stale with bad air; like the masses, he, too, slept with windows shut.
Did anybody ever hear, cried the enraged matron, bursting into tears, 'of a daughter telling her own mother she has been made game of! What a very uncertain temper Mrs Varden's was!
"Well, I'm a nasty weedy thing, if it comes to that." "No, you aren't," she cried, kissing him. But he led her back to the subject. Could nothing be suggested? He drew up some new rules alterations in the times of going to bed, and so on the effect of which would be to provide fewer opportunities for the pulling of Varden's ears.
It was a part of the certain uncertainty of Mrs Varden's temper, that when they were in this condition, she should be gay and sprightly. 'I need have a cheerful disposition, I am sure, said the smiling housewife, 'to preserve any spirits at all; and how I do it I can scarcely tell. 'Ah, mim, sighed Miggs, 'begging your pardon for the interruption, there an't a many like you.
Entering the old back-parlour, and ascending the flight of stairs, abrupt and steep, and quaintly fashioned as of old, they turned into the best room; the pride of Mrs Varden's heart, and erst the scene of Miggs's household labours. 'Varden brought the mother here last evening, he told me? said Mr Haredale. 'She is above-stairs now in the room over here, Edward rejoined.
'You're a boy of business, you are, sir! said Mr Willet, disdainfully, 'to go supposing that wintners care for nosegays. 'I don't suppose anything of the kind, returned Joe. 'Let them keep their red noses for bottles and tankards. These are going to Mr Varden's house. 'And do you suppose HE minds such things as crocuses? demanded John.
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