Mr Mellis's shop was directly opposite Miss Horn's
house, and his wife's parlour was over the shop, looking into
the street; hence the two neighbours could not but see each other
pretty often; beyond a stiff nod, however, no sign of smouldering
friendship had as yet broken out. Miss Horn was consequently a good
deal surprised when, having gone into the shop to buy some trifle,
Mr Mellis informed her, in all but a whisper, that his wife was
very anxious to see her alone for a moment, and begged her to have
the goodness to step up to the parlour. His customer gave a small
snort, betraying her first impulse to resentment, but her nobler
nature, which was never far from the surface, constrained her
compliance.
Mrs Mellis rose hurriedly when the plumb line figure of her
neighbour appeared, ushered in by her husband, and received her with
a somewhat embarrassed empressement, arising from the consciousness
of goodwill disturbed by the fear of imputed meddlesomeness. She
knew the inward justice of Miss Horn, however, and relied upon that,
even while she encouraged herself by waking up the ever present
conviction of her own superiority in the petite morale of social
intercourse. Her general tendency indeed was to look down upon Miss
Horn: is it not usually the less that looks down on the greater?
I had almost said it must be, for that the less only can look down
but that would not hold absolutely in the kingdoms of this world,
while in the kingdom of heaven it is all looking up.
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