The crimson of Mrs. Finch’s cheeks, and the precipitation with which she started to her feet, would have disconcerted most persons; but Theodora, though she cast down her eyes, spoke the more steadily. ‘You must be more guarded and reserved in manner if you wish to avoid unkind remarks.’
‘What—what—what?’ cried Georgina, passionately; ‘what can the most ill-natured, the most censorious, accuse me of?’
‘It is not merely the ill-natured,’ said Theodora. ‘I know very well that you mean no harm; but you certainly have an air of trying to attract attention.’
‘Well, and who does not? Some do so more demurely and hypocritically than others; but what else does any one go into company for? Do you expect us all to act the happy couple, like Captain and Mrs. Martindale the other night? You should have brought your own Percy to set us the example!’ said she, ending with a most unpleasant laugh.
‘Georgina, you must not expect to see Percy. He has rigid notions; he always avoids people who seek much after fashion and amusement, and (I must say it) he will not begin an acquaintance while you go on in this wild way.’
‘So!’ exclaimed Georgina. ‘It is a new thing for the gentlemen to be particular and fastidious! I wonder what harm he thinks I should do him! But I see how it is: he means to take you away, turn you against me, the only creature in this world that ever cared for me. Are not you come to tell me he forbids you ever to come near me!’
‘No, no; he does not, and if he did, would I listen?’
‘No, don’t, don’t displease him on my account,’ cried Mrs. Finch. ‘Go and be happy with him; I am not worth caring for, or vexing yourself about!’
The tears stood on her burning cheeks, and Theodora eagerly replied, ‘Have no fancies about me. Nothing shall ever make me give up my oldest friend. You ought to know me better than to think I would.’
‘You are so unlike those I live with,’ said Georgina sadly, as an excuse for the distrust. ‘Oh, you don’t know what I have gone through, or you would pity me. You are the only thing that has not failed me. There is Jane, with her smooth tongue and universal obligingness, she is the most selfish creature in existence—her heart would go into a nutshell! One grain of sympathy, and I would never have married. It was all her doing—she wanted luxuries! O Theodora, if I had but been near you!’