Read Online Cousin Phillis by Elizabeth Gaskell - Free Book Online
Authors: Elizabeth Gaskell
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half-filled basket
she was unconsciously holding in her hand; 'or may we stay and help
you?'
'If you would. But perhaps it will tire you, sir?' added she, speaking
now to Holdsworth.
'Not a bit,' said he. 'It will carry me back twenty years in my life,
when I used to gather peas in my grandfather's garden. I suppose I may
eat a few as I go along?'
'Certainly, sir. But if you went to the strawberry-beds you would find
some strawberries ripe, and Paul can show you where they are.'
'I am afraid you distrust me. I can assure you I know the exact fulness
at which peas should be gathered. I take great care not to pluck them
when they are unripe. I will not be turned off, as unfit for my work.'
This was a style of half-joking talk that Phillis was not accustomed
to. She looked for a moment as if she would have liked to defend
herself from the playful charge of distrust made against her, but she
ended by not saying a word. We all plucked our peas in busy silence for
the next five minutes. Then Holdsworth lifted himself up from between
the rows, and said, a little wearily,
'I am afraid I must strike work. I am not as strong as I fancied
myself.' Phillis was full of penitence immediately. He did, indeed,
look pale; and she blamed herself for having allowed him to help her.
'It was very thoughtless of me. I did not know—I thought, perhaps, you
really liked it. I ought to have offered you something to eat, sir! Oh,
Paul, we have gathered quite enough; how stupid I was to forget that Mr
Holdsworth had been ill!' And in a blushing hurry she led the way
towards the house. We went in, and she moved a heavy cushioned chair
forwards, into which Holdsworth was only too glad to sink. Then with
deft and quiet speed she brought in a little tray, wine, water, cake,
home-made bread, and newly-churned butter. She stood by in some anxiety
till, after bite and sup, the colour returned to Mr Holdsworth's face,
and he would fain have made us some laughing apologies for the fright
he had given us. But then Phillis drew back from her innocent show of
care and interest, and relapsed into the cold shyness habitual to her
when she was first thrown into the company of strangers. She brought
out the last week's county paper (which Mr Holdsworth had read five
days ago), and then quietly withdrew; and then he subsided into
languor, leaning back and shutting his eyes as if he would go to sleep.
I stole into the kitchen after Phillis; but she had made the round of
the corner of the house outside, and I found her sitting on the
horse-mount, with her basket of peas, and a basin into which she was
shelling them. Rover lay at her feet, snapping now and then at the
flies. I went to her, and tried to help her, but somehow the sweet
crisp young peas found their way more frequently into my mouth than
into the basket, while we talked together in a low tone, fearful of
being overheard through the open casements of the house-place in which
Holdsworth was resting.
'Don't you think him handsome?' asked I.
'Perhaps—yes—I have hardly looked at him,' she replied 'But is not he
very like a foreigner?'
'Yes, he cuts his hair foreign fashion,' said I.
'I like an Englishman to look like an Englishman.'
'I don't think he thinks about it. He says he began that way when he
was in Italy, because everybody wore it so, and it is natural to keep
it on in England.'
'Not if he began it in Italy because everybody there wore it so.
Everybody here wears it differently.'
I was a little offended with Phillis's logical fault-finding with my
friend; and I determined to change the subject.
'When is your mother coming home?'
'I should think she might come any time now; but she had to go and see
Mrs Morton, who was ill, and she might be kept, and not be home till
dinner. Don't you think you ought to go and see how Mr Holdsworth is
going on, Paul? He may be faint again.'
I went at her bidding; but there was no need for it. Mr Holdsworth was
up, standing by the window, his hands in
she was unconsciously holding in her hand; 'or may we stay and help
you?'
'If you would. But perhaps it will tire you, sir?' added she, speaking
now to Holdsworth.
'Not a bit,' said he. 'It will carry me back twenty years in my life,
when I used to gather peas in my grandfather's garden. I suppose I may
eat a few as I go along?'
'Certainly, sir. But if you went to the strawberry-beds you would find
some strawberries ripe, and Paul can show you where they are.'
'I am afraid you distrust me. I can assure you I know the exact fulness
at which peas should be gathered. I take great care not to pluck them
when they are unripe. I will not be turned off, as unfit for my work.'
This was a style of half-joking talk that Phillis was not accustomed
to. She looked for a moment as if she would have liked to defend
herself from the playful charge of distrust made against her, but she
ended by not saying a word. We all plucked our peas in busy silence for
the next five minutes. Then Holdsworth lifted himself up from between
the rows, and said, a little wearily,
'I am afraid I must strike work. I am not as strong as I fancied
myself.' Phillis was full of penitence immediately. He did, indeed,
look pale; and she blamed herself for having allowed him to help her.
'It was very thoughtless of me. I did not know—I thought, perhaps, you
really liked it. I ought to have offered you something to eat, sir! Oh,
Paul, we have gathered quite enough; how stupid I was to forget that Mr
Holdsworth had been ill!' And in a blushing hurry she led the way
towards the house. We went in, and she moved a heavy cushioned chair
forwards, into which Holdsworth was only too glad to sink. Then with
deft and quiet speed she brought in a little tray, wine, water, cake,
home-made bread, and newly-churned butter. She stood by in some anxiety
till, after bite and sup, the colour returned to Mr Holdsworth's face,
and he would fain have made us some laughing apologies for the fright
he had given us. But then Phillis drew back from her innocent show of
care and interest, and relapsed into the cold shyness habitual to her
when she was first thrown into the company of strangers. She brought
out the last week's county paper (which Mr Holdsworth had read five
days ago), and then quietly withdrew; and then he subsided into
languor, leaning back and shutting his eyes as if he would go to sleep.
I stole into the kitchen after Phillis; but she had made the round of
the corner of the house outside, and I found her sitting on the
horse-mount, with her basket of peas, and a basin into which she was
shelling them. Rover lay at her feet, snapping now and then at the
flies. I went to her, and tried to help her, but somehow the sweet
crisp young peas found their way more frequently into my mouth than
into the basket, while we talked together in a low tone, fearful of
being overheard through the open casements of the house-place in which
Holdsworth was resting.
'Don't you think him handsome?' asked I.
'Perhaps—yes—I have hardly looked at him,' she replied 'But is not he
very like a foreigner?'
'Yes, he cuts his hair foreign fashion,' said I.
'I like an Englishman to look like an Englishman.'
'I don't think he thinks about it. He says he began that way when he
was in Italy, because everybody wore it so, and it is natural to keep
it on in England.'
'Not if he began it in Italy because everybody there wore it so.
Everybody here wears it differently.'
I was a little offended with Phillis's logical fault-finding with my
friend; and I determined to change the subject.
'When is your mother coming home?'
'I should think she might come any time now; but she had to go and see
Mrs Morton, who was ill, and she might be kept, and not be home till
dinner. Don't you think you ought to go and see how Mr Holdsworth is
going on, Paul? He may be faint again.'
I went at her bidding; but there was no need for it. Mr Holdsworth was
up, standing by the window, his hands in
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