“He is certainly a good brother,”said Elizabeth,as she walked towards one of the windows.
“Perhaps we might be deceived.”
“Yes,sir;but I do not know when that will be.I do not know who is good enough for him.”
“Yes, ma'am, that he was indeed; and his son will be just like him―just as affable to the poor.”
There was certainly at this moment,in Elizabeth's mind,a more gentle sensation towards the original than she had ever felt at the height of their acquaintance.The commendation bestowed on him by Mrs.Reynolds was of no trifling nature.What praise is more valuable than the praise of an intelligent servant?As a brother,a landlord,a master,she considered how many people's happiness were in his guardianship!―how much of pleasure or pain was it in his power to bestow!―how much of good or evil must be done by him! Every idea that had been brought forward by the housekeeper was favourable to his character,and as she stood before the canvas on which he was represented, and fixed his eyes upon herself, she thought of his regard with a deeper sentiment of gratitude than it had ever raised before;she remembered its warmth, and softened its impropriety of expression.
“I say no more than the truth, and everybody will say that knows him,”replied the other.Elizabeth thought this was going pretty far;and she listened with increasing astonishment as the housekeeper added,“I have never known a cross word from him in my life, and I have known him ever since he was four years old.”