WIVES AND DAUGHTERS

BY

ELIZABETH CLEGHORN GASKELL







CHAPTER I

THE DAWN OF A GALA DAY


To begin with the old rigmarole of childhood. In a country there was a
shire, and in that shire there was a town, and in that town there was a
house, and in that house there was a room, and in that room there was a
bed, and in that bed there lay a little girl; wide awake and longing to
get up, but not daring to do so for fear of the unseen power in the
next room--a certain Betty, whose slumbers must not be disturbed until
six o'clock struck, when she wakened of herself 'as sure as clockwork',
and left the household very little peace afterwards. It was a June
morning, and early as it was, the room was full of sunny warmth and
light.

On the drawers opposite to the little white dimity bed in which Molly
Gibson lay, was a primitive kind of bonnet-stand on which was hung a