[Mary Anerley by R. D. Blackmore]@TWC D-Link bookMary Anerley CHAPTER XII 13/21
All these were the gifts of her dear uncle Popplewell, upon the other side of Filey, who might have been married for forty years, but nobody knew how long it was, because he had no children, and so he made Mary his darling.
And this ancient gentleman had leanings toward free trade. Whether these goods were French or not--which no decent person could think of asking--no French damsel could have put them on better, or shown a more pleasing appearance in them; for Mary's desire was to please all people who meant no harm to her--as nobody could--and yet to let them know that her object was only to do what was right, and to never think of asking whether she looked this, that, or the other.
Her mother, as a matter of duty, told her how plain she was almost every day; but the girl was not of that opinion; and when Mrs.Anerley finished her lecture (as she did nine times in ten) by turning the glass to the wall, and declaring that beauty was a snare skin-deep, with a frown of warning instead of a smile of comfort, then Mary believed in her looking-glass again, and had the smile of comfort on her own face. However, she never thought of that just now, but only of how she could do her duty, and have no trouble in her own mind with thinking, and satisfy her father when she told him all, as she meant to do, when there could be no harm done to any one; and this, as she heartily hoped, would be to-morrow.
And truly, if there did exist any vanity at all, it was not confined to the sex in which it is so much more natural and comely. For when a very active figure came to light suddenly, at a little elbow of the lane, and with quick steps advanced toward Mary, she was lost in surprise at the gayety, not to say grandeur, of its apparel.
A broad hat, looped at the side, and having a pointed black crown, with a scarlet feather and a dove-colored brim, sat well upon the mass of crisp black curls.
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