 and down the room with his
creaking boots, and he had to stop to listen.
    »Has Mr. Farquhar ever spoken to you about it?« Jemima's cheek was flushed
as she asked the question; she wished that she might have been the person to
whom he had first addressed himself.
    Mr. Bradshaw answered -
    »No, not spoken. It has been implied between us for some time. At least, I
have been so aware of his intentions that I have made several allusions, in the
course of business, to it, as a thing that might take place. He can hardly have
misunderstood; he must have seen that I perceived his design, and approved of
it,« said Mr. Bradshaw, rather doubtfully; as he remembered how very little, in
fact, passed between him and his partner which could have reference to the
subject, to any but a mind prepared to receive it. Perhaps Mr. Farquhar had not
really thought of it; but then again, that would imply that his own penetration
had been mistaken, a thing not impossible certainly, but quite beyond the range
of probability. So he reassured himself, and (as he thought) his daughter, by
saying -
    »The whole thing is so suitable - the advantages arising from the connection
are so obvious; besides which, I am quite aware, from many little speeches of
Mr. Farquhar's, that he contemplates marriage at no very distant time; and he
seldom leaves Eccleston, and visits few families besides our own - certainly,
none that can compare with ours in the advantages you have all received in moral
and religious training.« But then Mr. Bradshaw was checked in his implied
praises of himself (and only himself could be his martingale when he once set
out on such a career) by a recollection that Jemima must not feel too secure, as
she might become if he dwelt too much on the advantages of her being her
father's daughter. Accordingly, he said, »But you must be aware, Jemima, that
you do very little credit to the education I have given you, when you make such
an impression as you must have done to-day, before Mr. Farquhar could have said
what he did of you!«
    »What did he say?« asked Jemima, still in the low, husky tone of suppressed
anger.
    »Your mother says he remarked to her, What a pity it is that Jemima cannot
maintain her opinions without going into a passion; and what a pity it is that
her opinions are such as to sanction
