This letter disturbed May exceedingly, for she knew John Temple would not like to receive Mrs. Churchill at his table, and that Mrs. Temple also strongly objected to the whole family. Once she had had her two young brothers to spend the day with her at the Hall, and Mrs. Temple on that occasion had refused to appear.
“It won’t do, you know, May, my dear,” John had said to her afterward; “Rachel has a strong and natural objection to the boys on account of the death of her own lad in the game where they were playing. So don’t ask them again.”
May had never done so, though she knew they thought it was unkind of her. She took them presents and gave them money, but she dare not ask them to the Hall. And now about her father and stepmother she knew not what to do.
At last she took courage and went to her husband, and put her father’s letter in his hand.
“I wish to ask them so much, John,” she said.
John read the letter, shrugged his shoulders, and then put his hand kindly on his wife’s arm.
“It will be an awful bore, little woman,” he said.
“Just for once, John,” pleaded May, and John Temple finally allowed the invitation to be sent.
But May never wished for her stepmother to be asked to dine at the Hall again. Mrs. Churchill went determined to show—to use one of her husband’s phrase—that “she was as good as any of them.” She went overdressed, to be received by her stepdaughter and Mrs. Temple both in black, and Mrs. Temple took a malicious pleasure in leading her on to make herself ridiculous.
John Temple fidgeted in his chair, but Mrs. Temple enjoyed his discomfiture. She wished to make him feel what sort of family he had married into, and she certainly succeeded in her design. In fact the dinner was a most uncomfortable one, and only Mrs. Temple was amused.