'There is a likeness about the eyes and complexion I think,'
replied she, somewhat dubiously surveying my face; - 'and I think I
saw you at church on Sunday.'

I smiled. - There was something either in that smile or the
recollections it awakened that was particularly displeasing to her,
for she suddenly assumed again that proud, chilly look that had so
unspeakably roused my aversion at church - a look of repellent
scorn, so easily assumed, and so entirely without the least
distortion of a single feature, that, while there, it seemed like
the natural expression of the face, and was the more provoking to
me, because I could not think it affected.

'Good-morning, Mr. Markham,' said she; and without another word or
glance, she withdrew, with her child, into the garden; and I
returned home, angry and dissatisfied - I could scarcely tell you
why, and therefore will not attempt it.

I only stayed to put away my gun and powder-horn, and give some
requisite directions to one of the farming-men, and then repaired
to the vicarage, to solace my spirit and soothe my ruffled temper
with the company and conversation of Eliza Millward.

I found her, as usual, busy with some piece of soft embroidery (the
mania for Berlin wools had not yet commenced), while her sister was
seated at the chimney-corner, with the cat on her knee, mending a
heap of stockings.

'Mary - Mary! put them away!' Eliza was hastily saying, just as I