Madge, four years younger than her sister, was of a different type

altogether, and one more easily comprehended. She had very heavy

dark hair, and she had blue eyes, a combination which fascinated

Fenmarket. Fenmarket admired Madge more than it was admired by her

in return, and she kept herself very much to herself, notwithstanding

what it considered to be its temptations. If she went shopping she

nearly always went with her sister; she stood aloof from all the

small gaieties of the town; walked swiftly through its streets, and

repelled, frigidly and decisively, all offers, and they were not a

few, which had been made to her by the sons of the Fenmarket

tradesfolk. Fenmarket pronounced her 'stuck-up,' and having thus

labelled her, considered it had exhausted her. The very important

question, Whether there was anything which naturally stuck up?

Fenmarket never asked. It was a great relief to that provincial

little town in 1844, in this and in other cases, to find a word which

released it from further mental effort and put out of sight any

troublesome, straggling, indefinable qualities which it would

otherwise have been forced to examine and name. Madge was certainly

stuck-up, but the projection above those around her was not

artificial. Both she and her sister found the ways of Fenmarket were

not to their taste. The reason lay partly in their nature and partly

in their history.

Mrs Hopgood was the widow of the late manager in the Fenmarket branch

of the bank of Rumbold, Martin & Rumbold, and when her husband died

she had of course to leave the Bank Buildings. As her income was

somewhat straitened, she was obliged to take a small house, and she

was now living next door to the 'Crown and Sceptre,' the principal

inn in the town. There was then no fringe of villas to Fenmarket for

retired quality; the private houses and shops were all mixed

together, and Mrs Hopgood's cottage was squeezed in between the

ironmonger's and the inn. It was very much lower than either of its

big neighbours, but it had a brass knocker and a bell, and distinctly

asserted and maintained a kind of aristocratic superiority.

Mr Hopgood was not a Fenmarket man. He came straight from London to

be manager. He was in the bank of the London agents of Rumbold,

Martin & Rumbold, and had been strongly recommended by the city firm

as just the person to take charge of a branch which needed thorough

reorganisation. He succeeded, and nobody in Fenmarket was more

respected. He lived, however, a life apart from his neighbours,

excepting so far as business was concerned. He went to church once

on Sunday because the bank expected him to go, but only once, and had

nothing to do with any of its dependent institutions. He was a great

botanist, very fond of walking, and in the evening, when Fenmarket

generally gathered itself into groups for gossip, either in the

street or in back parlours, or in the 'Crown and Sceptre,' Mr

Hopgood, tall, lean and stately, might be seen wandering along the

solitary roads searching for flowers, which, in that part of the

world, were rather scarce. He was also a great reader of the best

books, English, German and French, and held high doctrine, very high

for those days, on the training of girls, maintaining that they need,

even more than boys, exact discipline and knowledge. Boys, he

thought, find health in an occupation; but an uncultivated, unmarried

girl dwells with her own untutored thoughts, which often breed

disease. His two daughters, therefore, received an education much

above that which was usual amongst people in their position, and each

of them--an unheard of wonder in Fenmarket--had spent some time in a

school in Weimar. Mr Hopgood was also peculiar in his way of dealing

with his children. He talked to them and made them talk to him, and

whatever they read was translated into speech; thought, in his house,

was vocal.




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