'Yes, indeed, it would be losing my right hand; but poor Alda--'
'Poor Alda! but consider if there is not worse evil in keeping her among girls who hurt her, if they do not Wilmet. Beauty and wounded vanity are dangerous in a place like this.'
'Less so in a great house, with that good honest Mary Alda, and Tom, who will look after her in the main, than here, or as a governess, with an inferior education.'
'It may be so. I know I can spare her better than her sister.'
'Wilmet is doing something for herself too--as Alda cannot, it seems. Justice settles the point, dearest, as it did between the boys--that is, if we have the offer.'
Perhaps the mother still had a lurking hope that the offer would not be made. Her instinct was to keep all her brood round her; but, silent and deferential woman that she was, she said nothing, and resolved to be thankful for what so eased her husband's mind.
The handsome carriage tore up to the door, and violet velvet and feathers descended, Mary Alda sprang after, and then came her father, and hampers on hampers of game, wine, and fruits ensued; while Marilda seized on Alda, and turned of herself into the dining-room, bearing a box of sweets. 'Where are the little ones? Little Bobbie, here; and all the rest.'
Not many calls were needful to bring a flock to share the feast, with cries of joy; but Marilda was not yet satisfied.
'Where's the other of you?' she said to Alda. 'I don't know you well apart yet.'
'Wilmet's in the kitchen,' thrust in Lancelot, 'ironing the collars for Sunday.'
'Oh! what fun! do let me go down and see! I should so like to iron.'
'Oh nonsense, come along, show me the way. That's right, Robins, only your hands are so sticky. What, down here!--Oh, Wilmet, how d'ye do? what delicious work! do you always do it?'
And she did try for ten minutes, at the end of which the mother's voice was heard calling for Edgar, who, turning crimson, went upstairs, leaving the others standing about the tidy kitchen, fresh sanded for Saturday.
'What, not you!' said Marilda, pausing in her smoothing operations, and looking at Felix.
'Oh! don't talk of it,' said Alda. 'I can't bear it. I didn't think he was in earnest, or that Papa would let him.'
Marilda turned full round. 'What, you won't go and be my father's clerk, and be one of Kedge and Underwood, and make a fortune?'