Mrs. Greatorex was, in a ladylike sort of way, a confirmed gossip. To have told her so personally would have been to make her your enemy for life. The way she looked at it was far more Christian—she said "she took a kindly interest in her neighbours."
To-day her interest was particularly strong, if not very kindly; and she was now, from the depths of her low lounging chair, catechising Agatha about the dance last night. She was always very keen about any news that concerned the Firs-Robinsons, who were really nobodies, whilst she—-
Her grandfather had been an earl—out-at-elbows, it was true, but yet an earl. She laid great store by this, and periodically reminded her acquaintances of it. Her mother, Lady Winifred, had married (badly from a moneyed point of view) a young and reckless guardsman, who died three years after her marriage, leaving her all his debts and an infant daughter. But then he was one of the Engletons of Derbyshire, and would have come into a baronetcy if three uncles and five cousins had been removed.
Unfortunately, her husband predeceased his father! And when the old man (who detested her) followed him to the family vault three months later, it was found that she was not as much as mentioned in his will.
There had been no settlements. As there were no children, all the property went to the second son, Reginald Greatorex.
The sorest subject with Agatha's aunt was this brother-in-law. She had treated him very cavalierly during her short reign at Medlands, as wife of the elder son; and when Reginald came in for the property he remembered it. He portioned her off with as small a dowry as decency would allow.
He was testy, self-contained old bachelor—and the last of his race—though with a good point here and there. He had a been good, at all events, to John Dillwyn, whose father was the rector of his parish, and whose mother, some said, had been the one love of old Reginald's life. Both father and mother were dead now, and the young man, after a fierce struggle for existence in town, had passed all his exams, and was free to kill or cure, anywhere. It was when he stood triumphant, but friendless, that Mr. Greatorex had come forward, and got him his post at Rickton, where the former had a good deal of property, though Medlands itself lay in an adjoining county.
Mrs. Greatorex had received the young man coldly. Any one connected with Reginald must be distasteful to her. To do her justice, she had never truckled to her brother-in-law in any way, and had contented herself with undisguised hatred of him. Agatha had nothing to do with him, she thanked Heaven—otherwise she could not have supported existence with her. She came from her side of the house, where people had been officers and—-
"Mrs Darkham looked frightful," said Agatha. "She really did, poor woman! Fancy, such a gown—red satin and black velvet— and her face—-"
"As red as the satin, no doubt. But is it possible, Agatha, what you tell me—that Richard Browne is staying with those people?"