Things settled themselves according to Julius’s prediction; for Mr. Bowater, coming up with his son Herbert to see his old friend, said, “What grand doings are you having here? What is Raymond’s wife up to? Ladies’ conversazione—that’s a new thing in these parts!”
“I gave such matters up to her,” said Mrs. Poynsett. “Young people like a little freedom of action; and there are changes in the neighbourhood since I was laid up.” It was a temporizing speech, to avoid showing her total ignorance.
Mr. Bowater cleared his throat. “Young folk may like freedom of action, but it don’t always follow that it is good for them. I hope she won’t get Raymond into a scrape, that’s all—committing him and herself to a course of lectures by that Yankee woman on woman’s rights.”
“It does not commit him; it is before he comes home, on Wednesday,” said Herbert.
“Never mind that; what a woman does her husband does. Look here, Mrs. Poynsett, I brought over Jenny’s note in my pocket; see, here are two—one to accept, and one to refuse, just as you choose.”
“Oh! accept, by all means,” cried Mrs. Poynsett; “don’t leave the wrong one!”
Then she changed the conversation, so decidedly, that Mr. Bowater could not resume his warning; but after taking leave of her, he met Rosamond in the avenue, and could not help saying, “Pray, was my old friend aware of Mrs. Raymond’s doings?”
“Have you told her? Oh! I am so glad!”
“Then it is as you said, Herbert. Mrs. Raymond had left her in ignorance! The impudent baggage! That’s what the world is coming to!”
“But what regular game Mrs. Poynsett was!” said Herbert. “You could not make out in the least that she had been left in the lurch; and I’m sure she has a plan, by the way in which she desired Jenny and Edie to come.”