Even
Mr Tappertit, though occupied as we have seen in gazing at his heart's
delight, could not wholly divert his thoughts from the voice of the
other charmer. Mrs Varden, to her own private thinking, had never been
so improved in all her life; and when Mr Chester, rising and craving
permission to speak with her apart, took her by the hand and led her at
arm's length upstairs to the best sitting-room, she almost deemed him
something more than human.
'Dear madam,' he said, pressing her hand delicately to his lips; 'be
seated.'
Mrs Varden called up quite a courtly air, and became seated.
'You guess my object?' said Mr Chester, drawing a chair towards her.
'You divine my purpose? I am an affectionate parent, my dear Mrs
Varden.'
'That I am sure you are, sir,' said Mrs V.
'Thank you,' returned Mr Chester, tapping his snuff-box lid. 'Heavy
moral responsibilities rest with parents, Mrs Varden.'
Mrs Varden slightly raised her hands, shook her head, and looked at the
ground as though she saw straight through the globe, out at the other
end, and into the immensity of space beyond.
'I may confide in you,' said Mr Chester, 'without reserve. I love
my son, ma'am, dearly; and loving him as I do, I would save him from
working certain misery.
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