Summary

Portrait of Elizabeth Gaskell Elizabeth Gaskell Sylvia's Lovers — Chapter IV: Philip Hepburn

Her little foot, placed on the 'traddle', was still encased in its smartly buckled shoe--not slightly to her discomfort, as she was unaccustomed to be shod in walking far; only as Philip had accompanied them home, neither she nor Molly had liked to go barefoot. Her round mottled arm and ruddy taper hand drew out the flax with nimble, agile motion, keeping time to the movement of the wheel. All this Philip could see; the greater part of her face was lost to him as she half averted it, with a shy dislike to the way in which she knew from past experience that cousin Philip always stared at her.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Elizabeth Gaskell Elizabeth Gaskell Sylvia's Lovers — Chapter IV: Philip Hepburn

Niver gie a woman t' whip hand o'er yo'! Yo' seen what it brings a man to; but for a' that I'll vote for Cholmley, an' d----t' press-gang!'
He had to shout out the last after Philip, for Hepburn, really anxious to please his aunt, and disliking drinking habits himself by constitution, was already at the door, and setting out on his return home, thinking, it must be confessed, far more of the character of Sylvia's shake of the hand than of the parting words of either his uncle or aunt.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Elizabeth Gaskell Elizabeth Gaskell Sylvia's Lovers — Chapter IV: Philip Hepburn

I'm a man and yo're another, but nation's nowheere. If Measter Cholmley talked to me i' that fashion, he'd look long for another vote frae me. I can make out King George, and Measter Pitt, and yo' and me, but nation! nation, go hang!'
Philip, who sometimes pursued an argument longer than was politic for himself, especially when he felt sure of being on the conquering side, did not see that Daniel Robson was passing out of the indifference of conscious wisdom into that state of anger which ensues when a question becomes personal in some unspoken way.
Source: Wikisource

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