"Miss Lucy Watson. Her father is the Independent minister. He is a gentleman, though his salary is less than we give our overseer. And he is a great scholar. So is Lucy. She finished her course at college this summer, and with high honors. Bless you, Tyrrel, she knows far more than I do about everything but warps and looms and such like. I admire a clever woman, and I'm proud of Lucy.""Where is she now?"
"Well, she was a bit done up with so much study, and so she went to Scarborough for a few weeks. She has an aunt there. The sea breezes and salt water soon made her fit for anything. She may be home very soon now.
Then, Tyrrel, you'll see a beauty--face like a rose, hair brown as a nut, eyes that make your heart go galloping, the most enticing mouth, the prettiest figure, and she loves me with all her heart. When she says `John Thomas, dear one,' I tremble with pleasure, and when she lets me kiss her sweet mouth, I really don't know where I am. What would you say if a girl whispered, `I love you, and nobody but you,' and gave you a kiss that was like--like wine and roses? Now what would you say?""I know as little as you do what I would say. It's a situation to make a man coin new words. I suppose your family are pleased.""Well, I never thought about my family till I had Lucy's word. Then I told mother.
She knew Lucy all through. Mother has a great respect for Independents, and though father sulked a bit at first, mother had it out with him one night, and when mother has father quiet in their room father comes to see things just as she wants him. I suppose that's the way with wives. Lucy will be just like that. She's got a sharp little temper, too.
She'll let me have a bit of it, no doubt, now and then.""Will you like that?"
"I wouldn't care a farthing for a wife without a bit of temper. There would be no fun in living with a woman of that kind. My father would droop and pine if mother didn't spur him on now and then. And he likes it.
Don't I know? I've seen mother snappy and awkward with him all breakfast time, tossing her head, and rattling the china, and declaring she was worn out with men that let all the good bargains pass them; perhaps making fun of us because we couldn't manage to get along without strikes. She had no strikes with her hands, she'd like to see her women stand up and talk to her about shorter hours, and so on;and father would look at me sly-like, and as we walked to the mill together he'd laugh contentedly and say, `Your mother was quite refreshing this morning, John Thomas. She has keyed me up to a right pitch. When Jonathan Arkroyd comes about that wool he sold us I'll be all ready for him.' So you see I'm not against a sharp temper. I like women as Tennyson says English girls are, `roses set round with little wilful thorns,' eh?"Unusual as this conversation was, its general tone was assumed by Ethel in her confidential talk with Ruth the following day. Of course, Ruth was not at all surprised at the news Ethel brought her, for though the lovers had been individually sure they had betrayed their secret to no one, it had really been an open one to Ruth since the hour of their meeting.
She was sincerely ardent in her praises of Tyrrel Rawdon, but--and there is always a but--she wondered if Ethel had "noticed what a quick temper he had.""Oh, yes," answered Ethel, "I should not like him not to have a quick temper. I expect my husband to stand up at a moment's notice for either mine or his own rights or opinions."And in the afternoon when all preliminaries had been settled and approved, Judge Rawdon expressed himself in the same manner to Ruth. "Yes," he said, in reply to her timid suggestion of temper, "you can strike fire anywhere with him if you try it, but he has it under control. Besides, Ethel is just as quick to flame up. It will be Rawdon against Rawdon, and Ethel's weapons are of finer, keener steel than Tyrrel's. Ethel will hold her own. It is best so.""How did the Squire feel about such a marriage?""He was quite overcome with delight.
