however, that Mrs. Poyser was elderly or
shrewish in her appearance; she was a good-looking woman, not more than
eight-and-thirty, of fair complexion and sandy hair, well-shapen, light-footed:
the most conspicuous article in her attire was an ample checkered linen apron,
which almost covered her skirt; and nothing could be plainer or less noticeable
than her cap and gown, for there was no weakness of which she was less tolerant
than feminine vanity, and the preference of ornament to utility. The family
likeness between her and her niece Dinah Morris, with the contrast between her
keenness and Dinah's seraphic gentleness of expression, might have served a
painter as an excellent suggestion for a Martha and Mary. Their eyes were just
of the same colour, but a striking test of the difference in their operation was
seen in the demeanour of Trip, the black-and-tan terrier, whenever that
much-suspected dog unwarily exposed himself to the freezing arctic ray of Mrs.
Poyser's glance. Her tongue was not less keen than her eye, and, whenever a
damsel came within earshot, seemed to take up an unfinished lecture, as a
barrel-organ takes up a tune, precisely at the point where it had left off.
    The fact that it was churning-day was another reason why it was inconvenient
to have the »whittaws,« and why, consequently, Mrs. Poyser should scold Molly
the housemaid with unusual severity. To all appearance Molly had got through her
after-dinner work in an exemplary manner, had »cleaned herself« with great
despatch, and now came to ask, submissively, if she should sit down to her
spinning till milking-time. But this blameless conduct, according to Mrs.
Poyser, shrouded a secret indulgence of unbecoming wishes, which she now dragged
forth and held up to Molly's view with cutting eloquence.
    »Spinning, indeed! It isn't spinning as you'd be at, I'll be bound, and let
you have your own way. I never knew your equals for gallowsness. To think of a
gell o' your age wanting to go and sit with half-a-dozen men! I'd ha' been
ashamed to let the words pass over my lips if I'd been you. And you, as have
been here ever since last Michaelmas, and I hired you at Treddles'on stattits,
without a bit o' character - as I say, you might be grateful to be hired in that
way to a respectable place