During tea entered Miss Branghton and her brother. I was sorry to observe the consternation of the former, when she perceived Mr. Smith. I had intended applying to her for advice upon this occasion, but had been always deterred by her disagreeable abruptness. Having cast her eyes several times from Mr. Smith to me, with manifest displeasure, she seated herself sullenly in the window, scarce answering Madame Duval’s enquiries; and when I spoke to her, turning absolutely away from me.
Mr. Smith, delighted at this mark of his importance, sat indolently quiet on his chair, endeavouring by his looks rather to display, than to conceal, his inward satisfaction.
“Good gracious!” cried young Branghton, “why, you’re all as fine as a five-pence! Why, where are you going?”
“To the Hampstead ball,” answered Mr. Smith.
“To a ball!” cried he. “Why, what, is aunt going to a ball? Ha, ha, ha!”
“Yes, to be sure,” cried Madame Duval; “I don’t know nothing need hinder me.”
“And pray, aunt, will you dance too?”
“Perhaps I may; but I suppose, Sir, that’s none of your business, whether I do or not.”
“Lord! well, I should like to go! I should like to see aunt dance of all things! But the joke is, I don’t believe she’ll get ever a partner.”
“You’re the most rudest boy ever I see,” cried Madame Duval, angrily: “but, I promise you, I’ll tell your father what you say, for I’ve no notion of such vulgarness.”