“I guess it’ll seem so to me, coming and going too,” said my Aunt Kezia, in the same tone as before. “No wonder. I couldn’t work in silk stockings with silver clocks, and sleeves with lace ruffles, and ever so many yards of silk bundled up of a heap behind me. I like gowns I can live in. I’ve had this on a bit over three times, Hatty.”
“I should think so, Aunt!” said Hatty, laughing something like her old self. “Why, I remember your making it the winter before last. Did not I run the seams?”
“I dare say you did, child. When you see me bedecked in the pomps and vanities of this wicked world, you may expect to catch larks by the sky falling. At least, I hope so.”
“Mademoiselle!” said Lucette’s voice at the door, “Madame bids me say the company comes from going, and if Madame and Mesdemoiselles will descend, she will be well at ease.”
“That’s French lingo is it?” said my Aunt Kezia. “Poor lass!”
So down we went to the drawing-room, where we found Grandmamma, my Aunt Dorothea, and my Uncle Charles, who came forward and led my Aunt Kezia to a chair. (Miss Newton told me that ceremony was growing out of date, and was only practised now by nice old-fashioned people; but Grandmamma likes it, and I fancy my Uncle Charles will keep it up while she lives.)
“Madam,” said Grandmamma, “I trust Mr Courtenay is well, and that you had a prosperous journey.”
“He is better than ever he was, I thank you, Madam,” answered my Aunt Kezia. “As for my journey, I did not much enjoy it, but here I am, and that is well.”
“Your other niece, Miss Drummond, is in Town, as I hear,” said Grandmamma. “Dorothea, my dear, it would doubtless be agreeable to Mrs Kezia if that young gentlewoman came here. Write a line and ask her to tarry with us while Mrs Kezia stays.”
“I thank you, Madam,” said my Aunt Kezia.