"I hope so indeed, Madame: we should be very ungrateful if we were not."
"That is well, young man. Be good to her, for our mothers are obliged to leave us, you know, long before we go ourselves."
"God forbid, Madame, that we should lose her these many years," answered the baronet fervently.
"Yes, yes; but mind this," answered the old lady testily, as she climbed into the _mouche_, "that if Mistress Forest should want a place--here am I at Belcomb, very glad to receive her. Good-bye."
Sir Richard, thunder-struck, stared at the slowly-departing vehicle like one in a dream. "I never heard such a speech," soliloquised he--"never. Can that old harridan be really calculating upon my mother's death giving her a new lady's-maid? How selfish is extreme old age! I could not have believed it possible. How it would have distressed mamma, could she have heard her. And yet but for that speech, she seemed an affectionate and kindly old creature enough. I have often heard that Frenchwomen have no hearts, but only manners--and I suppose that so it is."
|AS Walter had predicted, my Lady did not return to Mirk by the evening train, and scarcely under any circumstances could her absence have been more keenly felt. The four young folks at home were by no means so socially comfortable as a partie quarré is proverbially said to be. They felt themselves embarrassed even when all together; but when the couples were left alone, the gentlemen over the dessert, and the ladies in the drawing-room, their position was tenfold more awkward. If they had not been so nearly connected, the one might have taken refuge in conversation about the weather or politics, and the other in books or bonnet-shapes; but one of the many disadvantages of near relationship is, that you are cut off from all havens of that sort The device is too transparent to be adopted or acquiesced in--each was conscious that the other was thinking of all sorts of unpleasant things, and wishing his companion at Jericho--or York at least. The temperature was so mild that there was not even a fire to poke.
"You remember this claret, Walter, I dare say."
"Yes; did not our father reckon it the next best in his cellar to that of the Comet year?" &c., &c.