"Take my advice, my dear little aunt, and always inquire before you condemn; which advice is your due, in return for the large store of that commodity which you are so willing to bestow on other people."
My aunt was silent a moment, as if considering whether in what was said there was most of compliment, or most of reproof. Be that as it might, she was too politic not to choose to believe there was much of compliment implied in the mention made of her willingness to bestow advice. She therefore looked pleased, declared her pleasure at finding all was well, and that she found even the best authority was not always to be depended upon. At dinner that day, to show, I conclude, that Seymour was restored to her favour, she asked him to pay her a visit at their house in town; but on my saying that I expected she would include me in the invitation, as I wished to go to London, she turned round with great quickness and exclaimed, "What! and leave your sweet babe?"
The censure which this abrupt question conveyed gave a sort of shock to my feelings, and I could not answer her; but my mother instantly replied, "My daughter's health requires a little change of scene, and surely she can venture to intrust her infant to my care."
"Oh, yes! but how can she bear to leave it?"
"The trial will be great, I own," said I; "but I am not yet so very a mother as to forget I am a wife; and as I must either leave my child, or give up accompanying my husband, of the two evils I prefer the first."
"Oh! true, true, I never thought of that," was her sage reply; "and you are right, my dear, quite right, as husbands are, to go to take care of yours; and I advise you to keep a sharp look-out—for there are hawks abroad."
"Hawks!" said my uncle smiling, "turtle doves more likely; and they are the most dangerous bird of the two."
This observation gave Pendarves time to recover the confusion his aunt's speech had occasioned him, and he told me he was much amused to see that I had positively arranged a journey to London for him and for myself, without his having ever expressed an intention of going at all.
"But I knew you wished to go, and I thought it was your kind reluctance to ask me to leave my child which alone prevented your expressing your wishes."
"Indeed, Helen, you are right: I never should have thought of asking you to leave your child; and I own I am flattered to find I am still dearer to you than she is: therefore, if my uncle and aunt will be troubled with us, I shall be very happy to visit London as their guest."