‘Is the French journey fixed upon, Phœbe?’
‘Yes; they start this day fortnight.’
‘They—not you?’
‘No; there would be no room for me,’ with a small sigh.
‘How can that be? Who is going? Papa, mamma, two sisters!’
‘Mervyn,’ added Phœbe, ‘the courier, and the two maids.’
‘Two maids! Impossible!’
‘It is always uncomfortable if mamma and my sisters have only one between them,’ said Phœbe, in her tone of perfect acquiescence and conviction; and as her friend could not restrain a gesture of indignation, she added eagerly—‘But, indeed, it is not only for that reason, but Miss Fennimore says I am not formed enough to profit by foreign travel.’
‘She wants you to finish Smith’s Wealth of Nations, eh?’
‘It might be a pity to go away and lose so much of her teaching,’ said Phœbe, with persevering contentment. ‘I dare say they will go abroad again, and perhaps I shall never have so much time for learning. But, Miss Charlecote, is Lucilla coming home for the Horticultural Show?’