“I am very glad you came here as you did, my dear and gave him the opportunity of doing what he has done. He has a great large heart, and not objects enough to fill it. He is very fond of you and your boy, and your presence here makes him happier. But ‘to return to our muttons’—about this party at the Seymours. Now, as to your scruples about going into company, instead of living secluded on account of Alexander’s desertion,—dismiss them at once. Leaning on my grandfather’s arm,—for he is to be your escort, and Dick mine,—you can go anywhere with safety. But, if there is any other reason why you do not wish to go to the Seymours, of course you can stay at home. We wish you to use the most perfect freedom of action, my dear Drusilla, and we will only interfere when we see you inclined to immolate yourself upon the pagan altar of your idol. So, in the matter of the party, pray do as you please.”
“Then, if you and uncle think it right, I would like very much to go with you. I enjoy parties. I enjoyed ours very much.”
“I should think you did. You are not seventeen years old yet, and all your social pleasures are to come. You were the beauty of the evening, my little cousin.”
“Oh no, Anna, oh, no, no, no, Anna! that I never could be where you are!” exclaimed Drusilla, blushing intensely with the earnestness of her denial.
“Nonsense! I am an old maid. I am quite passée. I am nearly twenty-three years old, and have been out five seasons!” laughed Anna, with the imperious disdain of her own words with which a conscious beauty sometimes says just such things.
“Oh, Anna, Anna, how can you say such things of yourself? I would not let any one else say them of you, Anna! Why, Anna, you know you moved through your grandfather’s halls that night a perfect queen of beauty. There was no one who could at all equal or approach you!”
“Nonsense, I say! I overheard several people say that I was not looking so well as usual—that I had seen my best days, and so forth.”
“They were envious and spiteful people whom you had eclipsed, Anna, and, if I had heard them, I should have given them to know it!”
“You, you little pigeon, can you peck?” laughed Anna.
“Pigeons can peck, and sharply too, I assure you. And I should have pecked any one whom I heard saying impertinent things of you; but I heard nothing of the sort—I heard only praises and admiration. But there! I declare you ought not to disparage yourself so as to oblige me to tell the truth about you to your face, for, in this case, truth is high praise, and it is perfectly odious to have to praise a friend to her face,” said Drusilla.