Chapter 80 - Page 2

Maypole when he first asked after Dollya€"the laugh they all had, about that night when she was going out to the party in the sedan-chaira€"the unmerciful manner in which they rallied Mrs Varden about putting those flowers outside that very windowa€"the difficulty Mrs Varden found in joining the laugh against herself, at first, and the extraordinary perception she had of the joke when she overcame ita€"the confidential statements of Joe concerning the precise day and hour when he was first conscious of being fond of Dolly, and Dollya€™s blushing admissions, half volunteered and half extorted, as to the time from which she dated the discovery that she a€˜didna€™t minda€™ Joea€"here was an exhaustless fund of mirth and conversation.

Then, there was a great deal to be said regarding Mrs Vardena€™s doubts, and motherly alarms, and shrewd suspicions; and it appeared that from Mrs Vardena€™s penetration and extreme sagacity nothing had ever been hidden. She had known it all along. She had seen it from the first. She had always predicted it. She had been aware of it before the principals. She had said within herself (for she remembered the exact words) a€˜that young Willet is certainly looking after our Dolly, and I must look after him.a€™ Accordingly, she had looked after him, and had observed many little circumstances (all of which she named) so exceedingly minute that nobody else could make anything out of them even now; and had, it seemed from first to last, displayed the most unbounded tact and most consummate generalship.

Of course the night when Joe would ride homeward by the side of the chaise, and when Mrs Varden would insist upon his going back again, was not forgottena€"nor the night when Dolly fainted on his name being mentioneda€"nor the times upon times when Mrs Varden, ever watchful and prudent, had found her pining in her own chamber. In short, nothing was forgotten; and everything by some means or other brought them back to the conclusion, that that was the happiest hour in all their lives; consequently, that everything must have occurred for the best, and nothing could be suggested which would have made it better.

While they were in the full glow of such discourse as this, there came a startling knock at the door, opening from the street into the workshop, which had been kept closed all day that the house might be more quiet. Joe, as in duty bound, would hear of nobody but himself going to open it; and accordingly left the room for that purpose.

It would have been odd enough, certainly, if Joe had forgotten the way to this door; and even if he had, as it was a pretty large one and stood straight before him, he could not easily have missed it. But Dolly, perhaps because she was in the flutter of spirits before mentioned, or perhaps because she thought he would