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"
Her
elder
sister
.
They
were
,
like
you
and
your
sister
,
the
only
two
children
of
their
parents
,
who
hang
above
them
,
you
see
.
"
"
The
sister
is
pretty
,
"
said
Celia
,
implying
that
she
thought
less
favorably
of
Mr
.
Casaubon
’
s
mother
.
It
was
a
new
open
ing
to
Celia
’
s
imagination
,
that
he
came
of
a
family
who
had
all
been
young
in
their
time
—
the
ladies
wearing
necklaces
.
"
It
is
a
peculiar
face
,
"
said
Dorothea
,
looking
closely
.
"
Those
deep
gray
eyes
rather
near
together
—
and
the
delicate
irregular
nose
with
a
sort
of
ripple
in
it
—
and
all
the
powdered
curls
hanging
backward
.
Altogether
it
seems
to
me
peculiar
rather
than
pretty
.
There
is
not
even
a
family
likeness
between
her
and
your
mother
.
"
"
No
.
And
they
were
not
alike
in
their
lot
.
"
"
You
did
not
mention
her
to
me
,
"
said
Dorothea
.
"
My
aunt
made
an
unfortunate
marriage
.
I
never
saw
her
.
"
Dorothea
wondered
a
little
,
but
felt
that
it
would
be
indelicate
just
then
to
ask
for
any
information
which
Mr
.
Casaubon
did
not
proffer
,
and
she
turned
to
the
window
to
admire
the
view
.
The
sun
had
lately
pierced
the
gray
,
and
the
avenue
of
limes
cast
shadows
.
"
Shall
we
not
walk
in
the
garden
now
?
"
said
Dorothea
.
"
And
you
would
like
to
see
the
church
,
you
know
,
"
said
Mr
.
Brooke
.
"
It
is
a
droll
little
church
.
And
the
village
.
It
all
lies
in
a
nut
-
shell
.
By
the
way
,
it
will
suit
you
,
Dorothea
;
for
the
cottages
are
like
a
row
of
alms
-
houses
—
little
gardens
,
gilly
-
flowers
,
that
sort
of
thing
.
"
