Chapter 22

"YOU HAVE MADE IT LIVELIER."

When she had become Mr. Burmistone's champion, indeed! She could scarcely
have told when, unless, perhaps, she had fixed the date at the first time
she had heard his name introduced at a high tea, with every politely
opprobrious epithet affixed. She had defended him in her own mind then,
and felt sure that he deserved very little that was said against him, and
very likely nothing at all. And, the first time she had seen and spoken
to him, she had been convinced that she had not made a mistake, and that
he had been treated with cruel injustice. How kind he was, how manly, how
clever, and how well he bore himself under the popular adverse criticism!
She only wondered that anybody could be so blind and stupid and wilful as
to assail him.

And if this had been the case in those early days, imagine what she felt
now, when--ah, well!--when her friendship had had time and opportunity to
become a much deeper sentiment. Must it be confessed that she had seen
Mr. Burmistone even oftener than Octavia and Miss Belinda knew of? Of
course it had all been quite accidental; but it had happened that now and
then, when she had been taking a quiet walk in the lanes about Oldclough,
she had encountered a gentleman, who had dismounted, and led his horse by
the bridle, as he sauntered by her side. She had always been very timid
at such times, and had felt rather like a criminal; but Mr. Burmistone
had not been timid at all, and would, indeed, as soon have met Lady
Theobald as not, for which courage his companion admired him more than
ever. It was not very long before to be with this hero re-assured her,
and made her feel stronger and more self-reliant. She was never afraid to
open her soft little heart to him, and show him innocently all its
goodness, and ignorance of worldliness. She warmed and brightened under
his kindly influence, and was often surprised in secret at her own simple
readiness of wit and speech.

"It is odd that I am such a different girl when--when I am with you," she
said to him one day. "I even make little jokes. I never should think of
making even the tiniest joke before grandmamma. Somehow, she never seems
quite to understand jokes. She never laughs at them. You always laugh,
and I am sure it is very kind of you to encourage me so; but you must not
encourage me too much, or I might forget, and make a little joke at
dinner, and I think, if I did, she would choke over her soup."

Perhaps, when she dressed her hair, and adorned herself with pale pink
bows and like appurtenances, this artful young person had privately in
mind other beholders than Mrs. Burnham, and other commendation than that
to be bestowed by that most excellent matron.