On the evening of the following day Barbara, emerging from the carrier's
cart at the blacksmith's corner at Eastwich, was met by a riotous throng
of five energetic young sisters who nearly devoured her with kisses.
So happy was that greeting, indeed, that in it she almost forgot her
sorrows. In truth, as she reflected, why should she be sorry at all?
She was clear of a suitor whom she did not wish to marry, and of an aunt
whose very kindness was oppressive and whose temper was terrible. She
had fifty pounds in her pocket and a good stock of clothes, to say
nothing of the pearls and other jewellery, wealth indeed if measured by
the Walrond standard. Her beloved sisters were evidently in the best of
health and spirits; also, as she thought, better-looking than any girls
she had seen since she bade them farewell. Her father and mother were,
as they told her, well and delighted at her return; and lastly, as she
had already gathered, Anthony either was or was about to be at the Hall.
Why then should she be sorry? Why indeed should she not rejoice and
thank God for these good things?
On that evening, however, when supper was done, she had a somewhat
serious interview with her father and mother who sat on either side of
her, each of them holding one of her hands, for they could scarcely bear
her out of their sight.
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