He had
been her idol in those days, as she found out now, however much
at the time she had opposed him with violence.
As for Mr. Farquhar, he was almost weary of himself; no
reasoning, even no principle, seemed to have influence over him,
for he saw that Jemima was not at all what he approved of in
woman. He saw her uncurbed and passionate, affecting to despise
the rules of life he held most sacred, and indifferent to, if not
positively disliking, him; and yet he loved her dearly. But he
resolved to make a great effort of will, and break loose from
these trammels of sense. And while he resolved, some old
recollection would bring her up, hanging on his arm, in all the
confidence of early girlhood, looking up in his face with her
soft, dark eyes, and questioning him upon the mysterious subjects
which had so much interest for both of them at that time,
although they had become only matter for dissension in these
later days.
It was also true, as Mr. Bradshaw had said, Mr. Farquhar wished
to marry, and had not much choice in the small town of Eccleston.
He never put this so plainly before himself, as a reason for
choosing Jemima, as her father had done to her; but it was an
unconscious motive all the same. However, now he had lectured
himself into the resolution to make a pretty long absence from
Eccleston, and see if, amongst his distant friends, there was no
woman more in accordance with his ideal, who could put the
naughty, wilful, plaguing Jemima Bradshaw out of his head, if he
did not soon perceive some change in her for the better.
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