The first movement, in short, excited by such discovery (as with many parents on finding their children to be in love) is one of mixed impatience and contempt. Reason--if they be rational people--corrects the false feeling in time; but if they be irrational, it is never corrected, and the daughter or sister-in-law is disliked to the end.
"You would expect to find me alone, from what I said in my note," observed Miss Moore, as she conducted Caroline towards the parlour; "but it was written this morning: since dinner, company has come in."
And opening the door she made visible an ample spread of crimson skirts overflowing the elbow-chair at the fireside, and above them, presiding with dignity, a cap more awful than a crown. That cap had never come to the cottage under a bonnet; no, it had been brought in a vast bag, or rather a middle-sized balloon of black silk, held wide with whalebone. The screed, or frill of the cap, stood a quarter of a yard broad round the face of the wearer. The ribbon, flourishing in puffs and bows about the head, was of the sort called love-ribbon. There was a good deal of it, I may say, a very great deal. Mrs. Yorke wore the cap--it became her; she wore the gown also--it suited her no less.

"You would expect to find me alone, from what I said in my note," observed Miss Moore, as she led Caroline towards the parlour; "but since I wrote it, company has come in."
And opening the door she made visible an ample spread of crimson skirts overflowing the chair at the fireside, and above them a cap more awful than a crown. The cap's frill stood a quarter of a yard broad round the face of the wearer, with a great deal of ribbon. The wearer was Mrs. Yorke.
