Free Cousin Phillis by Elizabeth Gaskell

What can be more harmless? Why make a bugbear of a word? It is
as pretty and innocent a tale as can be met with. You don't suppose
they take Virgil for gospel?'
    By this time we were at the farm. I think Phillis gave me a warmer
welcome than usual, and cousin Holman was kindness itself. Yet somehow
I felt as if I had lost my place, and that Holdsworth had taken it. He
knew all the ways of the house; he was full of little filial attentions
to cousin Holman; he treated Phillis with the affectionate
condescension of an elder brother; not a bit more; not in any way
different. He questioned me about the progress of affairs in Eltham
with eager interest.
    'Ah!' said cousin Holman, 'you'll be spending a different kind of time
next week to what you have done this! I can see how busy you'll make
yourself! But if you don't take care you'll be ill again, and have to
come back to our quiet ways of going on.
    'Do you suppose I shall need to be ill to wish to come back here?' he
answered, warmly. 'I am only afraid you have treated me so kindly that
I shall always be turning up on your hands.'
    'That's right,' she replied. 'Only don't go and make yourself ill by
over-work. I hope you'll go on with a cup of new milk every morning,
for I am sure that is the best medicine; and put a teaspoonful of rum
in it, if you like; many a one speaks highly of that, only we had no
rum in the house.' I brought with me an atmosphere of active life which
I think he had begun to miss; and it was natural that he should seek my
company, after his week of retirement. Once I saw Phillis looking at us
as we talked together with a kind of wistful curiosity; but as soon as
she caught my eye, she turned away, blushing deeply.
    That evening I had a little talk with the minister. I strolled along
the Hornby road to meet him; for Holdsworth was giving Phillis an
Italian lesson, and cousin Holman had fallen asleep over her work.
Somehow, and not unwillingly on my part, our talk fell on the friend
whom I had introduced to the Hope Farm.
    'Yes! I like him!' said the minister, weighing his words a little as he
spoke. 'I like him. I hope I am justified in doing it, but he takes
hold of me, as it were; and I have almost been afraid lest he carries
me away, in spite of my judgment.'
    'He is a good fellow; indeed he is,' said I. 'My father thinks well of
him; and I have seen a deal of him. I would not have had him come here
if I did not know that you would approve of him.'
    'Yes,' (once more hesitating,) 'I like him, and I think he is an
upright man; there is a want of seriousness in his talk at times, but,
at the same time, it is wonderful to listen to him! He makes Horace and
Virgil living, instead of dead, by the stories he tells me of his
sojourn in the very countries where they lived, and where to this day,
he says—But it is like dram-drinking. I listen to him till I forget my
duties, and am carried off my feet. Last Sabbath evening he led us away
into talk on profane subjects ill befitting the day.' By this time we
were at the house, and our conversation stopped. But before the day was
out, I saw the unconscious hold that my friend had got over all the
family. And no wonder: he had seen so much and done so much as compared
to them, and he told about it all so easily and naturally, and yet as I
never heard any one else do; and his ready pencil was out in an instant
to draw on scraps of paper all sorts of illustrations—modes of drawing
up water in Northern Italy, wine-carts, buffaloes, stone-pines, I know
not what. After we had all looked at these drawings, Phillis gathered
them together, and took them. It is many years since I have seen thee,
Edward Holdsworth, but thou wast a delightful fellow! Ay, and a good
one too; though much sorrow was caused by thee!

Part III
*
    Just after this I went home for a week's holiday. Everything was
prospering there; my father's new partnership gave evident satisfaction
to both parties. There was no display of increased wealth in our