of them as circumstances had brought into intimate relation with
him had ever feared rather than loved him.
    The curates were left to shift for themselves. Sweeting, who was the least
embarrassed of the three, took refuge beside Mrs. Sykes; who, he knew, was
almost as fond of him as if he had been her son. Donne, after making his general
bow with a grace all his own, and saying in a high pragmatical voice, »How d'ye
do, Miss Helstone?« dropped into a seat at Caroline's elbow: to her unmitigated
annoyance, for she had a peculiar antipathy to Donne, on account of his
stultified and unmovable self-conceit, and his incurable narrowness of mind.
Malone, grinning most unmeaningly, inducted himself into the corresponding seat
on the other side: she was thus blessed in a pair of supporters; neither of
whom, she knew, would be of any mortal use, whether for keeping up the
conversation, handing cups, circulating the muffins, or even lifting the plate
from the slop-basin. Little Sweeting, small and boyish as he was, would have
been worth twenty of them.
    Malone, though a ceaseless talker when there were only men present, was
usually tongue-tied in the presence of ladies: three phrases, however, he had
ready cut and dried, which he never failed to produce: -
    1stly. - »Have you had a walk to-day, Miss Helstone?«
    2ndly. - »Have you seen your cousin, Moore, lately?«
    3rdly. - »Does your class at the Sunday-school keep up its number?«
    These three questions being put and responded to, between Caroline and
Malone reigned silence.
    With Donne it was otherwise: he was troublesome, exasperating. He had a
stock of small-talk on hand, at once the most trite and perverse that can well
be imagined: abuse of the people of Briarfield; of the natives of Yorkshire
generally; complaints of the want of high society; of the backward state of
civilization in these districts; murmurings against the disrespectful conduct of
the lower orders in the north toward their betters; silly ridicule of the manner
of living in these parts, - the want of style, the absence of elegance, as if
he, Donne, had been accustomed to very great doings indeed: an insinuation which
his somewhat underbred manner and aspect failed to bear out. These strictures he
seemed to think must raise him in the estimation of Miss Helstone, or of any
other lady who heard him; whereas with her, at least