CHAPTER 9
P. Henry.—But do you use me thus, Ned; must I marry your sister?
Poins.—May the wench have no worse fortune, but I never said so.
—K. Henry IV
Arthur met the new-comer, exclaiming, ‘Ha! Fotheringham, you have not brought me the amber mouth-piece I desired John to tell you of.’
‘Not I. I don’t bring Turks’ fashion into Christian countries. You ought to learn better manners now you are head of a family.’
Theodora entered, holding her head somewhat high, but there was a decided heightening of the glow on her cheek as Mr. Fotheringham shook hands with her. Lord Martindale gave him an affectionate welcome, and Lady Martindale, though frigid at first, grew interested as she asked about his journey.
The arriving guests met him with exclamations of gladness, as if he was an honour to the neighbourhood; and John had seldom looked more cheerful and more gratified than in watching his reception.
At length came the names for which Violet was watching; and the presence of Lady Elizabeth gave her a sense of motherly protection, as she was greeted with as much warmth as was possible for shy people in the midst of a large party. Emma eagerly presented her two friends to each other, and certainly they were a great contrast. Miss Marstone was sallow, with thin sharply-cut features, her eyes peered out from spectacles, her hair was disposed in the plainest manner, as well as her dress, which was anything but suited to a large dinner-party. Violet’s first impulse was to be afraid of her, but to admire Emma for being attracted by worth through so much formidable singularity.
‘And the dear little godson is grown to be a fine fellow,’ began Emma.
‘Not exactly that,’ said Violet, ‘but he is much improved, and so bright and clever.’