There never was such an alteration in a small room in a small time as in
that parlour when they went back to finish tea. So dark, so deserted,
so perfectly disenchanted. It seemed such sheer nonsense to be sitting
tamely there, when she was at a dance with more lovers than man could
calculate fluttering about her--with the whole party doting on and
adoring her, and wanting to marry her. Miggs was hovering about too; and
the fact of her existence, the mere circumstance of her ever having been
born, appeared, after Dolly, such an unaccountable practical joke. It
was impossible to talk. It couldn't be done. He had nothing left for it
but to stir his tea round, and round, and round, and ruminate on all the
fascinations of the locksmith's lovely daughter.
Gabriel was dull too. It was a part of the certain uncertainty of Mrs
Varden's temper, that when they were in this condition, she should be
gay and sprightly.
'I need have a cheerful disposition, I am sure,' said the smiling
housewife, 'to preserve any spirits at all; and how I do it I can
scarcely tell.'
'Ah, mim,' sighed Miggs, 'begging your pardon for the interruption,
there an't a many like you.'
'Take away, Miggs,' said Mrs Varden, rising, 'take away, pray.
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