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there was anything so attractive here.’
To keep up the conversation, I asked Mr. Vholes if he
would like to live altogether in the country.
‘There, miss,’ said he, ‘you touch me on a tender string.
My health is not good (my digestion being much impaired),
and if I had only myself to consider, I should take refuge
in rural habits, especially as the cares of business have
prevented me from ever coming much into contact with
general society, and particularly with ladies’ society, which
I have most wished to mix in. But with my three daughters,
Emma, Jane, and Caroline—and my aged father—I cannot
afford to be selfish. It is true I have no longer to maintain
a dear grandmother who died in her hundred and second
year, but enough remains to render it indispensable that the
mill should be always going.’
It required some attention to hear him on account of his
inward speaking and his lifeless manner.
‘You will excuse my having mentioned my daughters,’ he
said. ‘They are my weak point. I wish to leave the poor girls
some little independence, as well as a good name.’
We now arrived at Mr. Boythorn’s house, where the
tea-table, all prepared, was awaiting us. Richard came in
restless and hurried shortly afterwards, and leaning over
Mr. Vholes’s chair, whispered something in his ear. Mr.
Vholes replied aloud—or as nearly aloud I suppose as he
had ever replied to anything—‘You will drive me, will you,
sir? It is all the same to me, sir. Anything you please. I am
quite at your service.’
We understood from what followed that Mr. Skimpole

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