I told him I should
think not the likes of him--'but our house and land,' says he, 'and
hopera box and cetera.' 'But I don't think that of our one,' says I;
'bless you, she is too high-minded.' But what I think, mum, is, she
wouldn't say 'no' to her uncle; her mouth don't seem made for saying
no, especially to him; and he is bent on Talboys, mum, you take my
word."
To return to the drawing-room: Mrs. Bazalgette, after the above
delicate discussion, sat there in ambush, knowing more of Lucy's
affairs than Lucy knew. Her next point was to learn Lucy's sentiments,
and to find whether she was deliberately playing false and breaking
her promise, vide.
"Well, Lucy, any lovers yet?"
"No, aunt."
"Take care, Lucy, a little bird whispers in my ear."
"Then it is a humming-bird," and Lucy pouted. "Now, aunt, did you
really come to Font Abbey to tease me about such nonsense
as--as--gentlemen?" and Lucy looked hurt.
"Here's an actress for you," thought Mrs. Bazalgette; but she calmly
dropped the subject, and never recurred to it openly all the evening,
but lay secretly in watch, and put many subtle but seeming innocent
questions to her niece about her habits, her uncle's guest, whether
her uncle kept a horse for her, whether he bought it for her, etc.,
etc.
The next morning Mrs. Bazalgette breakfasted in bed, during which
process she rang her bell seven times. Lucy received at the
breakfast-table a letter from her uncle.
"MY DEAR NIECE--The funeral was yesterday, and, I flatter myself, well
performed: there were five-and-twenty carriages.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137