Year: 1879

1t was a standard question in Din.


nent-Why had Dr. Hardy married
{ Miss Ray? Even when that lady haG


been Mrs. Hardy for some years, the


old puzzle would serve to quicker


Dinnent conversation when it tagged


or to point the moral of the genera,


uncertainty of human actions.


There was no such terrible disparity


between the worldly circumstances o1


the couple. Both belonged to re,


spectacle Dinnent families. Perhaps


the Hardys had been the more respect


ed, but the Rays were ield to be the


better off, belief which Miss Lydia


Rays astonishing marriage had tend


ed to confirm. Old Mr.. Ray was


thought to be miser, perhaps on the


theory that nobody but rich man


could look poor so frankly. The


Rays had mixed little in Dinnent So


ciety, only giving stiff tea-party now


and then. Mrs. Ray had been long


dead, and the family consisted Of the


old gentleman and three daughters,


the youngest or whom, Lydia, became


the fortunate Mrs. Hardy. The Rays


house was called Briar Cottage; and


there was no flowers in it's garden and


very few ornaments in its rooms. The
Misses Ray had always dressed with
an artificial and elaborate primness,
and the two elder sisters were dry and
stiff in manner, as if the overforward
advances of the world needed much
repelling.


The Hardy family had been Of
quite another stamp. They lived in
the Red House, and every little
urchin in Dinnent knew the Red
House and it's ways, and its abundant
jams and sweeties. There had been
rather ''hard lines there in DIR. Har-
dy's boyhood, for his father had died
suddenly, and left his widow very
poorly provided for. But she got
through somehow, and was still seated
in the chimney-corner-a jolly old
lady, who received her aughter-in-
law without wincing, and who, if she
shared Dinnent's wonder at the match,
never allowed Dinnent to know it.


DR.. Hardy himself had been a pop
ular character from his very cradle.
He was thoroughly good-hearted and
well-meaning, and yet he had certain
weaknesses and foibles which got him
into scrapes, and saved him from the
spite which is too often the lot Of
strong and militant virtue.


He was curious mixture of activity
and Incidence. Perhaps he may be
described as physically active and
mentally lazy. 1t was easy for him
to perform feats of strength and en-
durance-to ride twenty miles at mid
night to see sick child; to spend
night after night beside sick-beds in
stead of in his own. But it had never
been easy for Edward Hardy to make
up his mind, and then stick to it.


Perhaps some of DIR. Hardy's popu-
larity was due to the fact that it was
by no means easy for him to run
counter to anybody while he was in
that PERSONS presence. Silence was
his utmost dissent, and rarely indeed
was that unaccompanied by a smile or
a dubious gesture.


But these trifies were not likely to
detract from his Importance, when he
turned his back on colleges and hos
pitfalls, and settled down in Dinnent, a
clever young medical man, bright in
face and kindly in manner, with
pleasant family traditions behind him
and good financial prospects before.


Whom would he marry? had then
been Dinnent's question regarding
him. Laura Devine, the mayors
daughter, had been suggested. Laura's
beauty had consumptive cast, and
the young doctor was often at the
house Some people said a
doctor would be too wise to marry a
sickly woman, but others remarked
that it was a proverb that nobody
went so ill-shod as the shoemaker's
wife Others, again suggested one of
the daughters of Mrs. Rowe, the
widow Of the last vicar. The doctor
went there often too, and that must
be quite non-professionally, for Rose
and Sarah Rowe were as sturdy as the
hawthorn trees, and their mother was
constantly boasting that nobody who
had a good constitution and common
sense needed to trouble doctor at all.
In fact, Rose and Sarah sometimes
wished that their mother would not |
be so loud in these proclamations.
They feared they might hurt DR..
Hardy's feelings, and could scarcely
believe in the sincerity with which he
endorsed them.


Though these three young ladies
carried off the palm of probability,
almost every other girl in Dinnent
was casually contemplated in the same
light. Even the poor orphan, Lucy
Craven, who served in the Dinnent
shop, was suspected of
having ''upsetting ideas, " and of being
Just the girl (well, her gown was very
black and her face was very whiteD
TO bewitch a fine young fellow with
more chivalry than knowledge of the
world.


But nobody-no, not deep old Mrs.
Simeon, at the Gate House, nor sharp
Miss Rutter, of the Grange, ever
thought of Lydia Ray.


The oversight was not wonderful.
Dinnent had seen the three sisters
coming in and going out for nearly
forty years, always dressed alike, al
WAYS prim, precise, and proper. If
had thought of Lydia, they
must have also thought of Miss Eliza
md Miss Jane. Only quite elderly
people knew exactly which were the
elder Of the three, for between thirty
two and forty there is not always a
very striking difference of appearance.
But one must draw line somewhere,
md, considering that DIR. Hardy was
not much more than seven-and-twentv.