And yet, if he did not care for her, if this late indifference were to last, what a great shroud was drawn over life! Could she bear it?
From the agony she dared not look at, but which she was going to risk encountering, she was aroused by the presence of her mother.
"Jemima! your father wants to speak to you in the dining-room." "What for ?" asked the girl.
"Oh! he is fidgeted by something Mr Farquhar said to me, and which I repeated.

I am sure I thought there was no harm in it, and your father always likes me to tell him what everybody says in his absence." Jemima went with a heavy heart into her father's presence.
He was walking up and down the room, and did not see her at first.
"Oh, Jemima! is that you?
Has your mother told you what I want to speak to you about ?" "No!" said Jemima.

"Not exactly." "She has been telling me what proves to me how very seriously you must have displeased and offended Mr Farquhar, before he could have expressed himself to her as he did, when he left the house.

You know what he said ?" "No!" said Jemima, her heart swelling within her.

"He has no right to say anything about me." She was desperate, or she durst not have said this before her father.
"No right!--what do you mean, Jemima ?" said Mr Bradshaw, turning sharp round.