CHAPTER XII. THE SHAFTS OF PHOEBE.
Her golden bow she bends,
Her deadly arrows sending forth.
Greek Hymn (KEIGHTLEY).
On coming in from a walk, Aurelia was surprised by the tidings that Mistress Phoebe Treforth had come to call on her, and had left a billet. The said billet was secured with floss silk sealed down in the antiquated fashion, and was written on full-sized quarto paper. These were the contents:—
“Madam,
“My Sister and Myself are desirous of the Honour of your
Acquaintance, and shall be happy if you will do use the
Pleasure of coming to partake of Dinner at Three o’Clock
on Tuesday, the 13th instant.
“I remain,
“Yours to command,
“DELIA TREFORTH.”
Aurelia carried the invitation to her oracle.
“My cousins are willing to make your acquaintance?” said he. “That is well. Jumbo shall escort you home in the evening.”
“Thank you, sir, but must I accept the invitation?”
“It could not be declined without incivility. Moreover, the Mistresses Treforth are highly respected, and your father and sister will certainly think it well for you to have female friends.”
“Do you think those ladies could ever be my friends, sir?” she asked, with an intonation that made him reply, with a sound of amusement.