unwinding of her worsted, knitting her brow at it with a grand air.
“I cannot conceive how it could be any pain to Mr. Farebrother,” said Fred, who nevertheless felt that surprising conceptions were beginning to form themselves.
“Precisely; you cannot conceive,” said Mrs. Garth, cutting her words as neatly as possible.
For a moment Fred looked at the horizon with a dismayed anxiety, and then turning with a quick movement said almost sharply—
“Do you mean to say, Mrs. Garth, that Mr. Farebrother is in love with Mary?”
“And if it were so, Fred, I think you are the last person who ought to be surprised,” returned Mrs. Garth, laying her knitting down beside her and folding her arms. It was an unwonted sign of emotion in her that she should put her work out of her hands. In fact her feelings were divided between the satisfaction of giving Fred his discipline and the sense of having gone a little too far. Fred took his hat and stick and rose quickly.