there for Maria—a Dr. Graham, who boards and lodges such unfortunates. Sir Bevil had an idiot cousin there who died. I shall write to-morrow.’
‘I promised that Maria should not be separated from me,’ said Phœbe.
‘Nonsense, my dear,’ said Augusta; ‘we could not receive her; she can never be made presentable.’
‘You?’ said Phœbe.
‘Yes, my dear; did you not know? You go home with us the day after to-morrow; and next spring I mean to bring you out, and take you everywhere. The Admiral is so generous!’
‘But the others?’ said Phœbe.
‘I don’t mind undertaking Bertha,’ said Lady Acton. ‘I know of a good school for her, and I shall deposit Maria at Dr. Graham’s as soon as I can get an answer.’
‘Really,’ continued Augusta, ‘Phœbe will look very creditable by and by, when she has more colour and not all this crape. Perhaps I shall get her married by the end of the season; only you must learn better manners first, Phœbe—not to rush out of the dining-room in this way. I don’t know what I shall do without my other glass of wine—when I am so low, too!’
‘A fine mistress of the house, indeed,’ said Lady Acton. ‘It is well Mervyn’s absurd notion is impossible.’
‘What was that? To keep us all?’ asked Phœbe, catching at the hope.