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It is a poor heart that never rejoices—it must have been the
poorest； weakest； and most watery heart that ever beat； which
would not have warmed towards the Maypole bar。 Mrs Varden’s
did directly。 She could no more have reproached John Willet
among those household gods； the kegs and bottles； lemons； pipes；
and cheese； than she could have stabbed him with his own bright
carving…knife。 The order for dinner too—it might have soothed a
savage。 ‘A bit of fish；’ said John to the cook； ‘and some lamb chops
（breaded； with plenty of ketchup）； and a good salad； and a roast
spring chicken； with a dish of sausages and mashed potatoes； or
something of that sort。’ Something of that sort！ The resources of
these inns！ To talk carelessly about dishes； which in themselves
were a first…rate holiday kind of dinner； suitable to one’s wedding…
day； as something of that sort： meaning； if you can’t get a spring
chicken； any other trifle in the way of poultry will do—such as a
peacock； perhaps！ The kitchen too； with its great broad cavernous
chimney； the kitchen； where nothing in the way of cookery seemed
impossible； where you could believe in anything to eat； they chose
to tell you of。 Mrs Varden returned from the contemplation of
these wonders to the bar again； with a head quite dizzy and
bewildered。 Her housekeeping capacity was not large enough to
comprehend them。 She was obliged to go to sleep。 Waking was
pain； in the midst of such immensity。
Dolly in the meanwhile； whose gay heart and head ran upon
other matters； passed out at the garden door； and glancing back
now and then （but of course not wondering whether Joe saw her）；
tripped away by a path across the fields with which she was well
acquainted； to discharge her mission at the Warren； and this
deponent hath been informed and verily believes； that you might
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have seen many less pleasant objects than the cherry…coloured
mantle and ribbons； as they went fluttering along the green
meadows in the bright light of the day； like giddy things as they
were。
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Chapter 20
he proud consciousness of her trust； and the great
importance she derived from it； might have advertised it to
T
all the house if she had had to run the gauntlet of its
inhabitants； but as Dolly had played in every dull room and
passage many and many a time； when a child； and had ever since
been the humble friend of Miss Haredale； whose foster…sister she
was； she was as free of the building as the young lady herself。 So；
using no greater precaution than holding her breath and walking
on tiptoe as she passed the library door； she went straight to
Emma’s room as a privileged visitor。
It was the liveliest room in the building。 The chamber was
sombre like the rest for the matter of that； but the presence of
youth and beauty would make a prison cheerful （saving alas！ that
confinement withers them）； and lend some charms of their own to
the gloomiest scene。 Birds； flowers； books； drawing； music； and a
hundred such graceful tokens of feminine loves and cares； filled it
with more of life and human sympathy than the whole house
besides seemed made to hold。 There was heart in the room； and
who that has a heart； ever fails to recognise the silent presence of
another！
Dolly had one undoubtedly； and it was not a tough one either；
though there was a little mist of coquettishness about it； such as
sometimes surrounds that sun of life in its morning； and slightly
dims its lustre。 Thus； when Emma rose to greet her； and kissing
her affectionately on the cheek； told her； in her quiet way； that she
had been very unhappy； the tears stood in Dolly’s eyes； and she
felt more sorry than she could tell； but next moment she happened
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to raise them to the glass； and really there was something there so
exceedingly agreeable； that as she sighed； she smiled； and felt
surprisingly consoled。
‘I have heard about it； miss；’ said Dolly； ‘and it’s very sad
indeed； but when things are at the worst they are sure to mend。’
‘But are you sure they are at the worst？’ asked Emma with a
smile。
‘Why； I don’t see how they can very well be more unpromising
than they are； I really don’t；’ said Dolly。 ‘And I bring something to
begin with。’
‘Not from Edward？’
Dolly nodded and smiled； and feeling in her pockets （there were
pockets in those days） with an affectation of not being able to find
what she wanted； which greatly enhanced her importance； at
length produced the letter。 As Emma hastily broke the seal and
became absorbed in its contents； Dolly’s eyes； by one of those
strange accidents for which there is no accounting； wandered to
the glass again。 She could not help wondering whether the coach…
maker suffered very much； and quite pitied the poor man。
It was a long letter—a very long letter； written close on all four
sides of the sheet of paper； and crossed afterwards； but it was not
a consolatory letter； for as Emma read it she stopped from time to
time to put her handkerchief to her eyes。 To be sure Dolly
marvelled greatly to see her in so much distress； for to her
thinking a love affair ought to be one of the best jokes； and the
slyest； merriest kind of thing in life。 But she set it down in her own
mind that all this came from Miss Haredale’s being so constant；
and that if she would only take