Scenes and Characters

'Oh dear! what will papa and Emily say to me for being up still? But I will stay now, it would not be fair to pretend to be gone to bed.'

'Well said, honest Phyl; now for the news from the castle.'

'Why, Claude,' said his eldest brother, entering, 'you are alive again.'

'I doubt whether your evening could have been pleasanter than ours,' said Claude.

'Phyl,' cried Ada, 'do you know, Mary Carrington's governess thought I was Florence's sister.'

'You look so bright, Claude,' said Jane, 'I think you must have taken Cinderella's friend with the pumpkin to enliven you.'

'My fairy was certainly sister to a Brownie,' said Claude, stroking Phyllis's hair.

'Claude,' again began Ada, 'Miss Car-'

'I wish Cinderella's fairy may be forthcoming the day of the ball,' said Lily, disconsolately.

'And William is going after all,' said Emily.

'Indeed! has the great Captain relented?'

'Yes. Is it not good of him? Aunt Rotherwood is so much pleased that he consents to go entirely to oblige her.'

'Sensible of his condescension,' said Claude. 'By the bye, what makes the Baron look so mischievous?'

'Mischievous!' said Emily, looking round with a start, 'he is looking very comical, and so he has been all the evening.'

'What? You thought mischievous was meant in Hannah's sense, when she complains of Master Reginald being very mischie-vi-ous.'

Ada now succeeded in saying, 'The Carringtons' governess called me Lady Ada.'

'How could she bring herself to utter so horrid a sound?' said Claude.

'Ada is more cock-a-hoop than ever now,' said Reginald; 'she does not think Miss Weston good enough to speak to.'

'But, Claude, she really did, she thought I was Florence's sister, and she said I was just like her.'

'I wish you would hold your tongue, or go to bed,' said William, 'I have heard nothing but this nonsense all the way home.'

While William was sending off Ada to bed, and Phyllis was departing with her, Lily told Claude that the Captain had been most agreeable. 'I feared,' said she, 'that he would be too grand for this party, but he was particularly entertaining; Rotherwood was quite eclipsed.'

'Rotherwood wants Claude to set him off,' said Mr. Mohun. 'Now, young ladies, reserve the rest of your adventures for the morning.'

Adeline had full satisfaction in recounting the governess's mistake to the maids, and in hearing from Esther that it was no wonder, 'for that she looked more like a born lady than Lady Florence herself!'

Lilias's fit of petulance about the ball had returned more strongly than ever; she partly excused herself to her own mind, by fancying she disliked the thought of the lonely evening she was to spend more than that of losing the pleasure of the ball. Mr. Mohun would be absent, conducting Maurice to a new school, and Claude and Reginald would also be gone.

Her temper was affected in various ways; she wondered that William and Emily could like to go-she had thought that Miss Weston was wiser. Her daily occupations were irksome-she was cross to Phyllis.

It made her very angry to be accused by the young brothers of making a fuss, and Claude's silence was equally offensive. It was upon principle that he said nothing. He knew it was nothing but a transient attack of silliness, of which she was herself ashamed; but he was sorry to leave her in that condition, and feared Lady Rotherwood's coming into the neighbourhood was doing her harm, as certainly as it was spoiling Ada. The ball day arrived, and it was marked by a great burst of fretfulness on the part of poor Lilias, occasioned by so small a matter as the being asked by Emily to write a letter to Eleanor. Emily was dressing to go to dine at Devereux Castle when she made the request.

'What have I to say? I never could write a letter in my life, at least not to the Duenna-there is no news.'

'About the boys going to school,' Emily suggested.

'As if she did not know all about them as well as I can tell her. She does not care for my news, I see no one to hear gossip from. I thought you undertook all the formal correspondence, Emily?'

'Do you call a letter to your sister formal correspondence!'

'Everything is formal with her. All I can say is, that you and William are going to the ball, and she will say that is very silly.'

'Eleanor once went to this Raynham ball; it was her first and last,' said Emily.

'Yes, not long before they went to Italy; it will only make her melancholy to speak of it-I declare I cannot write.'

'And I have no time,' said Emily, 'and you know how vexed she is if she does not get her letter every Saturday.'

'All for the sake of punctuality, nothing else,' said Lily. 'I rather like to disappoint fidgety people-don't you, Emily?'

'Well,' said Emily, 'only papa does not like that she should be disappointed.'

'You might have written, if you had not dawdled away all the morning.'

This was true, and it therefore stung Emily, who complained that Lily was very unkind. Lily defended herself sharply, and the dispute was growing vehement, when William happily cut it short by a summons to Emily to make haste.

When they were gone Lily had time for reflection. Good-temper was so common a virtue, and generally cost her so little effort, that she took no pains to cultivate it, but she now felt she had lost all claim to be considered amiable under disappointment. It was too late to bear the privation with a good grace. She was heartily ashamed of having been so cross about a trifle, and ashamed of being discontented at Emily's having a pleasure in which she could not share. Would this have been the case a year ago? She was afraid to ask herself the question, and without going deep enough into the history of her own mind to make her sorrow and shame profitable, she tried to satisfy herself with a superficial compensation, by making herself particularly agreeable to her three younger sisters, and by writing a very long and entertaining letter to Eleanor.

She met Emily with a cheerful face the next day, and listened with pleasure to her history of the ball; and when Mr. Mohun returned home he saw that the cloud had passed away. But, alas! Lilias neglected to take the only means of preventing its recurrence.

The next week William departed. Before he went he gave his sisters great pleasure by desiring them to write to him, and not to let him fall into his ancient state of ignorance respecting the affairs of Beechcroft.

'Mind,' was his farewell speech, 'I expect you to keep me au courant du jour. I will not be in the dark about your best friends and neighbours when I come home next July.'

CHAPTER XVI-VANITY AND VEXATION

'And still I have to tell the same sad tale

Of wasted energies, and idle dreams.'

Devereux Castle now became the great resort of the Miss Mohuns. They were always sure of a welcome there. Lady Rotherwood liked to patronise them, and Florence was glad of their society.

This was quite according to the wishes of Emily, who now had nothing left to desire, but that the style of dress suitable, in her opinion, to the granddaughter of the Marquis of Rotherwood, was more in accordance with the purse of the daughter of the Esquire of Beechcroft. It was no part of Emily's character to care for dress. She was at once too indolent and too sensible; she saw the vulgarity of finery, and only aimed at simplicity and elegance. During their girlhood Emily and Lilias had had no more concern with their clothes than with their food; Eleanor had carefully taught them plain needlework, and they had assisted in making more than one set of shirts; but they had nothing to do with the choice or fashion of their own apparel. They were always dressed alike, and in as plain and childish a manner as they could be, consistently with their station. On Eleanor's marriage a suitable allowance was given to each of them, in order that they might provide their own clothes, and until Rachel left them they easily kept themselves in very good trim. When Esther came Lily cheerfully took the trouble of her own small decorations, considering it as her payment for the pleasure of having Esther in the house. Emily, however, neglected the useful 'stitch in time,' till even 'nine' were unavailing. She soon found herself compelled to buy new ready-made articles, and expected Lilias to do the same. But Lilias demurred, for she was too wise to think it necessary to ruin herself in company with Emily, and thus the two sisters were no longer dressed alike. A constant fear tormented Emily lest she should disgrace Lady Rotherwood, or be considered by some stranger as merely a poor relation of the great people, and not as the daughter of the gentleman of the oldest family in the county. She was, therefore, anxious to be perfectly fashionable, and not to wear the same things too often, and in her disinterested desire to maintain the dignity of the family the allowance which she received at Christmas melted away in her hands.