Lord Rotherwood was standing by the counter, reading so intently that he did not see his cousins’ arrival. When they entered he just looked up, shook hands, asked after Ada, and went on reading. Lily began looking for some books for the school, which she had long wished for, and was now able to purchase; Emily sat down in a melancholy, abstracted mood, and Florence and Jane stood together talking.
‘You know you are all to come early,’ said the former, ‘I do not know how we should manage without you. Rotherwood insists on having everything the same day—poor people first, and gentry and farmers altogether. Mamma does not like it, and I expect we shall be dreadfully tired; but he says he will not have the honest poor men put out for the fashionables; and you know we are all to dance with everybody. But Jenny, who is this crossing the street? Look, you have an eye for oddities.’
‘Miss Fitchett, the subscription-hunter,’ said Jane.
‘She is actually coming to hunt us. I believe I have my purse. Oh! Emily is to be the first victim.’
Miss Fitchett advanced to Emily, and saying that she believed she had the honour to address Miss Mohun, began to tell her that her friend having been prematurely informed of her small efforts, had with a noble spirit of independence begged that the subscription might not be continued, and that what had already been given might be returned, and she rejoiced in this opportunity of making the explanation. But Miss Fitchett could not bear to relinquish the five-pound note, and added, that perhaps Miss Mohun might not object to apply her subscription to some other object, the Dorcas Society for instance.
‘Thank you, I have no interest in the Dorcas Society,’ said Emily; a reply which brought upon her a full account of all its aims and objects; and as still her polite looks spoke nothing of assent, Miss Fitchett went on with a string of other societies, speaking the louder and the more eagerly in the hope of attracting the attention of the young marquis and his sister. Emily was easily overwhelmed with words, and not thinking it lady-like to claim her money, yet feeling that none of these societies were fit objects for it, she stood confused and irresolute, unwilling either to consent or refuse. Jane, perceiving her difficulty, turned to Lord Rotherwood, and rousing him from his book, explained Emily’s distress in a few words, and sent him to her rescue. He stepped forward just as Miss Fitchett, taking silence for consent, was proceeding to thank Emily; ‘I think you misunderstand Miss Mohun,’ said he. ‘Since her subscription is not needed by the person for whom it was intended, she would be glad to have it restored. She does not wish to encourage any unauthorised societies.’
Boy as he was, in appearance still more than in age, there was a dignity in his manner which, together with the principle on which he spoke, overawed Miss Fitchett even more than his rank. She only said, ‘Oh! my lord, I beg your pardon. Certainly, only—’
The note was placed in Emily’s hands, and with a bow from Lord Rotherwood, she retreated, murmuring to herself the remonstrance which she had not courage to bestow upon the Marquis.
‘Thank you, thank you, Rotherwood,’ said Emily; ‘you have done me a great service.’
‘Well done, Rotherwood,’ said Florence; ‘you have given the old lady something to reflect upon.’