‘Quite enough to upset any one’s balance,’ said Bessie. ‘In fact, only a very sober, not to say stolid, nature would have stood it.’
‘Poor things! They were so happy—so open-hearted. I did long to caution them. “Pull cup, steady hand.”’
‘It will all come right now,’ said Bessie. ‘Mrs Arthuret spoke of their going away for the winter; I do not think it will be a bad plan, for then we can start quite fresh with them; and the intimacy with the Myttons will be broken, though I am sorry for the poor girls. They have no harm in them, and Arthurine was doing them good.’
‘A whisper to you, Miss Merrifield—they are going back with me, to be prepared for governesses at Arthurine’s expense. It is the only thing for them in the crash that young man has brought on the family.’
‘Dear, good Arthurine! She only needed to learn how to carry her cup.’
MRS. BATSEYES
I. FATHER AND DAUGHTER
SCENE.—The drawing-room of Darkglade Vicarage. Mr. Aveland, an elderly clergyman. Mrs. Moldwarp, widow on the verge of middle age.
Mr. A. So, my dear good child, you will come back to me, and do what you can for the lonely old man!
Mrs. M. I know nothing can really make up—