“Yes, indeed,” said Miss Wellwood, catching at the notion; “it is your mind that needs the distraction, my dear.”
“I am distracted enough already,” poor Rachel said, putting her hand up. “Indeed, I do not want to be disobliging,” she said, interpreting her mother’s anxious gestures to mean that she was wanting in civility; “it is very kind in you, Miss Wellwood, but this has been a very trying day, and I am sure I can give no pleasure to anybody, so if I might only be let off.”
“It is not so much—” began Miss Wellwood, getting into a puzzle, and starting afresh. “Indeed, my dear, my brother and I could not bear that you should do anything you did not like, only you see it would never do for you to seem to want to shut yourself up.”
“I should think all the world must feel as if I ought to be shut up for life,” said Rachel, dejectedly.
“Ah! but that is the very thing. If you do not show yourself it will make such a talk.”
Rachel had nearly said, “Let them talk;” but though she felt tormented to death, habitual respect to these two gentle, nervous, elderly women made her try to be courteous, and she said, “Indeed, I cannot much care, provided I don’t hear them.”
“Ah! but you don’t know, my dear,” said Mrs. Curtis, seeing her friend looked dismayed at this indifference. “Indeed, dear Miss Wellwood, she does not know; we thought it would be so awkward for her in court.”
“Know what?” exclaimed Rachel, sitting upright, and putting down her feet. “What have you been keeping from me?”
“Only—only, my dear, people will say such things, and nobody could think it that knew you.”
“What?” demanded Rachel.