‘Gone to some charity sermonizing. She will meet some great folks there, and be in her element. I am glad to have you alone. Why, you bonny old Greek empress, you are as jolly a gipsy queen as ever! How you will turn people’s heads! I am glad you have all that bright red-brown on your cheeks!’
‘No self-preservation like a country life and early rising,’ said Theodora, laughing. ‘You have not kept yourself as well, Georgina. I am sorry to see you so thin.’
‘Me! Oh, I have battered through more seasons than you have dreamt of!’ said Mrs. Finch, lightly, but with a sigh. ‘And had a fever besides, which disposed of all my fat. I am like a hunter in fine condition, no superfluous flesh, ready for action. And as to action—what are you doing, Theodora?—where are you going?’
‘I don’t know. Mamma keeps the cards. I don’t want to know anything about it.’
Georgina burst into a laugh, rather unnecessarily loud.
‘Just like you! Treat it as you used your music! What can’t be cured must be endured, you know. Well, you poor victim, are you going to execution to-night?’
‘Not that I know of.’
‘Famous! Then I’ll tell you what: there is going to be a lecture on Mesmerism to-night. Wonderful! Clairvoyante tells you everything, past, present, and to come! You’ll detect all the impostures; won’t it be fun? I’ll call for you at eight precisely.’
Theodora thought of Arthur, and that she should miss the tidings of his child; then recollected that he had not afforded her one minute’s greeting. She would show him that she did not care, and therefore made the agreement.
Cold and moody she came down to dinner, but her heart was beating with disappointment at not seeing Arthur, though a place was prepared for him. Mrs. Finch was right; he had been with his father all the afternoon, but had not supposed the ladies to be at home; an explanation which never occurred to Theodora.