Volume I Part 16 (1/2)
”I will do all I can to shew myself a dutiful and observant nephew....
But don't you think, sir, that 'the lady doth protest too much?'”
”Oh! but she'll keep her word,” ... replied his mother, laughing.
”Keep her word?... to be sure she will, poor lady! She is broken-hearted and broken-spirited, as it's easy to see by her letter,”
observed the worthy Mr. Peters; ”and I do hope, wife, that you will be very kind to her.”
”And where shall I tell her to drive, Mr. Peters?”
”To the York hotel, my dear, I should think.”
”Do you know that I rather fancy she expects we should ask her to come here?”
”No!... Well, that did not strike me. Let me see the letter again....
But it's no matter; whether she does or does not it may be quite as well to do it; ... and she says she likes to save her money, poor thing.”
The father and son then set off to walk to Bristol, and Mrs. Peters and her three daughters were left to sit in judgment on the letter, and then to answer it.
”I see what you think, mamma,” said the eldest girl, as the door closed after them; ”you have no faith in this widowed aunt's lachrymals?”
”Not so much, Mary, as I might have, perhaps, if she said less about her sorrows.”
”And her generous intentions in our favour, mamma,” ... said the youngest, ”perhaps you have no faith in them either.”
”Not so much, Lucy,” said the lady, repeating her words, ”as I might have, perhaps, if she said less about it.”
”I hope you are deceived, all of you,” said Elizabeth, the second girl, very solemnly; ”and I must say I think it is very shocking to put such dreadful constructions upon the conduct of a person you know so little about.”
”I am sure I put no constructions,” replied Mary, ”I only ventured to guess at mamma's.”
”And I beg to declare that my sins against this generous new relative have gone no farther,” said Lucy.
”Well, well, we shall see, girls,” said the lively mother. ”Let us all start fair for the loaves and fishes; ... and now, Elizabeth, ring the bell, let the breakfast be removed, and you will see that I shall reply in a very sober and proper way to this pathetic communication.”
The letter Mrs. Peters composed and read to her daughters, was approved even by the sober-minded and conscientious Elizabeth; it contained an obliging offer of accommodation at their house in Rodney Place, till Mrs. Barnaby should have found lodgings to suit her, and ended with kind regards from all the family, and ”_I beg you to believe me your affectionate sister, Margaret Peters_.”
So far, everything prospered with our widow. This invitation was exactly what she wished, and having answered, accepted, and fixed the day and probable hour at which it was to begin, Mrs. Barnaby once more enjoyed the delight of preparing herself for a journey that was to lead her another step towards the goal she had in view.
CHAPTER XV.
THE ENTReE OF MRS. BARNABY IN MRS. PETERS'S DRAWING-ROOM.--FAMILY CONSULTATIONS.--ARRANGEMENTS FOR MISS WILLOUGHBY'S DRESS FOR SOME TIME TO COME.
In one respect Mrs. Barnaby was considerably more fortunate than she had ventured to hope, for the ”clothier,” and the clothier's family, held a much higher station in society than she had antic.i.p.ated. Mr. Peters had for many years been an active and prosperous manufacturer, neither above his business, nor below enjoying the ample fortune acquired by it; his wife was a lively, agreeable, lady-like woman, formed to be well received by any society that the chances of commerce might have thrown her into, being sufficiently well educated and sufficiently gifted to do credit to the highest, and without any pretensions which might have caused her either to give or receive pain, had the chances been against her, and she had become the wife of a poor instead of a rich manufacturer. The eldest son, who was excellently well calculated to follow the steps of his lucky father, was already married and settled at Frome, with a share of the business of which he was now the most efficient support; the younger son, who was intended for the church, was at present at home for a few months previous to his commencing term-keeping at Oxford; and the three daughters, from appearance, education, and manners, were perfectly well qualified to fill the situation of first-rate belles in the Clifton ball-room. Their house and its furniture, their carriage and establishment, were all equally beyond the widow's expectations, so that, in short, a very agreeable surprise awaited her arrival at Clifton.
It was a lovely evening of the last week in June, that a Bristol hackney-coach deposited Mrs. Barnaby, her niece, her Jerningham, and her trunks, at No. 4, Rodney Place. The ladies of the Peters family had just left the dinner-table, and were awaiting their relative in the drawing-room. Let it not be supposed that the interesting widow made her _entree_ among them in the dress she had indulged in during her residence at Exeter; she was not so thoughtless; and so well had poor Agnes already learned to know her, that she felt little surprise when she saw her, the day before they left that city, draw forth every melancholy article that she had discarded, and heard her say,--
”My life pa.s.ses, Agnes, in a constant watchfulness of the feelings of others.... It was for your sake, dear girl, that I so early put off this sad attire, and the fear of wounding the feelings of my dear sister-in-law now induces me to resume it, for a few days at least, that she may feel I come to find my first consolation from her!”
So the next morning Mrs. Barnaby stepped into the stage-coach that was to convey her to Bristol with her lilacs, her greys, and her pink whites, all carefully shrouded from sight in band-boxes, and herself a perfect model of conjugal woe.