To her surprise, Michael Hurst sat in the house-place. House-place
is a sort of better kitchen, where no cookery is done, but which is
reserved for state occasions. Michael had gone in there because he
was accompanied by his only sister, a woman older than himself, who
was well married beyond Keswick, and who now came for the first time
to make acquaintance with Susan. Michael had primed his sister with
his wishes regarding Will, and the position in which he stood with
Susan; and arriving at Yew Nook in the absence of the latter, he had
not scrupled to conduct his sister into the guest-room, as he held
Mrs. Gale's worldly position in respect and admiration, and therefore
wished her to be favourably impressed with all the signs of property
which he was beginning to consider as Susan's greatest charms. He
had secretly said to himself, that if Eleanor Hebthwaite and Susan
Dixon were equal in point of riches, he would sooner have Eleanor by
far. He had begun to consider Susan as a termagant; and when he
thought of his intercourse with her, recollections of her somewhat
warm and hasty temper came far more readily to his mind than any
remembrance of her generous, loving nature.

And now she stood face to face with him; her eyes tear-swollen, her
garments dusty, and here and there torn in consequence of her rapid
progress through the bushy by-paths. She did not make a favourable
impression on the well-clad Mrs. Gale, dressed in her best silk gown,
and therefore unusually susceptible to the appearance of another.
Nor were Susan's manners gracious or cordial. How could they be,
when she remembered what had passed between Michael and herself the
last time they met? For her penitence had faded away under the daily
disappointment of these last weary weeks.

But she was hospitable in substance. She bade Peggy hurry on the