sweep away, may survive to hang
a withered apple on the tree late into autumn: having braved the last frosts of
spring, it may also brave the first of winter.
    Every one noticed the change in Miss Helstone's appearance, and most people
said she was going to die. She never thought so herself: she felt in no dying
case; she had neither pain nor sickness. Her appetite was diminished; she knew
the reason: it was because she wept so much at night. Her strength was lessened;
she could account for it; sleep was coy and hard to be won; dreams were
distressing and baleful. In the far future she still seemed to anticipate a time
when this passage of misery should be got over, and when she should once more be
calm, though perhaps never again happy.
    Meanwhile her uncle urged her to visit; to comply with the frequent
invitations of their acquaintance: this she evaded doing; she could not be
cheerful in company: she felt she was observed there with more curiosity than
sympathy. Old ladies were always offering her their advice, recommending this or
that nostrum; young ladies looked at her in a way she understood, and from which
she shrank. Their eyes said they knew she had been »disappointed,« as custom
phrases it: by whom, they were not certain.
    Commonplace young ladies can be quite as hard as commonplace young
gentlemen, - quite as worldly and selfish. Those who suffer should always avoid
them; grief and calamity they despise: they seem to regard them as the judgments
of God on the lowly. With them to love is merely to contrive a scheme for
achieving a good match: to be disappointed is to have their scheme seen through
and frustrated. They think the feelings and projects of others on the subject of
love, similar to their own, and judge them accordingly.
    All this Caroline knew, partly by instinct, partly by observation: she
regulated her conduct by her knowledge, keeping her pale face and wasted figure
as much out of sight as she could. Living thus in complete seclusion, she ceased
to receive intelligence of the little transactions of the neighbourhood.
    One morning her uncle came into the parlour, where she sat endeavouring to
find some pleasure in painting a little group of wild flowers, gathered under a
hedge at the top of the Hollow fields, and said to her in his abrupt manner: -
    »Come, child, you are always stooping over palette, or book, or sampler:
leave that tinting work. By-the-by, do you put your pencil to your lips