Henrietta was not quite certain whether all this was meant in jest or earnest; and perhaps the truth was, that though grandpapa had little liking for new plans, he was too wise not to adopt those which possessed manifest advantage, and only indulged himself in a good deal of playful grumbling, which greatly teased Uncle Roger.
“There is Sutton Leigh,” said grandpapa, as they came in sight of a low white house among farm buildings. “Well, Henrietta, are you prepared for an introduction to an aunt and half-a-dozen cousins, and Jessie Carey into the bargain?”
“Jessie Carey!” exclaimed Beatrice in a tone of dismay.
“Did you not know she was there? Why they always send Carey over for her with the gig if there is but a tooth-ache the matter at Sutton Leigh.”
“Is she one of Aunt Roger’s nieces?” asked Henrietta.
“Yes,” said Beatrice. “And—O! grandpapa, don’t look at me in that way. Where is the use of being your pet, if I may not tell my mind?”
“I won’t have Henrietta prejudiced,” said Mr. Langford. “Don’t listen to her, my dear: and I’ll tell you what Jessie Carey is. She is an honest, good-natured girl as ever lived; always ready to help every one, never thinking of trouble, without an atom of selfishness.”
“Now for the but, grandpapa,” cried Beatrice. “I allow all that, only grant me the but.”
“But Queen Bee, chancing to be a conceited little Londoner, looks down on us poor country folks as unfit for her most refined and intellectual society.”
“O grandpapa, that is not fair! Indeed, you don’t really believe that. O, say you don’t!” And Beatrice’s black eyes were full of tears.