He himself had been annoyed more at the idea that Sylvia would be spoken of as having been at a rough piece of rustic gaiety--a yearly festival for the lower classes of Yorkshire servants, out-door as well as in-door--than at the affair itself, for he had learnt from his informant how instantaneous her appearance had been.

He stood watching his aunt's troubled face, and almost wishing that he had not spoken.

At last she heaved a deep sigh, and stirring the fire, as if by this little household occupation to compose her mind, she said-- 'It's a pity as wenches aren't lads, or married folk.

I could ha' wished--but it were the Lord's will--It would ha' been summut to look to, if she'd had a brother.

My master is so full on his own thoughts, yo' see, he's no mind left for thinking on her, what wi' th' oats, and th' wool, and th' young colt, and his venture i' th' _Lucky Mary_.' She really believed her husband to have the serious and important occupation for his mind that she had been taught to consider befitting the superior intellect of the masculine gender; she would have taxed herself severely, if, even in thought, she had blamed him, and Philip respected her feelings too much to say that Sylvia's father ought to look after her more closely if he made such a pretty creature so constantly his companion; yet some such speech was only just pent within Philip's closed lips.