The tone in which this was said left no doubt on my mind that Miss Benny was extremely surprised at Mrs. Cholmondeley’s enthusiasm.
“I suppose it will not be a large party?” I hazarded, still more timidly.
“Not a large party! We shall have half the county; every one will be there. The Moate is such a dear old place—splendid pictures, grand reception-rooms—and the Cholmondeleys do everything so well; they gave three weeks’ invitation, so it’s sure to be extra smart!”
Three weeks’ invitation, and I had been asked at the eleventh hour! I now shrank into my corner of the fly and relapsed into silence, feeling as small as Miss Benny could possibly desire.
As we bowled steadily along the hard country roads, my three companions launched into the news of the neighborhood, entirely ignoring my presence. I gathered that Mrs. Montmorency Green was a newcomer, and that her cousins were anxious to post her up in all the fashionable intelligence.
“They have a large house-party at the Moate, and there will be a lawn meet to-morrow,” said Miss Benny.
“I wonder if the Somers will give a dance this winter?” added her sister. “I should like Annie here to see the Abbey—it’s such a wonderful old place. The library is what was once the monks’ refectory.”
“Oh, there will be no dances at the Abbey now that Lady Hildegarde has married her daughter,” remarked her sister decisively.