“Oh, but there will be far worse trials for me then! Now that we are in mourning, at least no one can find fault with my dress; but, when we begin to go out again—and I am to be presented next season—I shall want money; and George is so mean—he says he is so poor, but that is nonsense!—that I know he will open his eyes and say that a hundred a year ought to buy me everything I want, and the same day he will send a groom up to Tattersall’s to buy him a couple of hunters, and wonder at the selfish extravagance of women! It is so silly, too; for the very best thing he can do is to get me well married as soon as possible; and who will see me if I never go out, and who will look at me if I am dressed ‘with tasteful economy?’ As if economy was ever tasteful—as if I did not do my dressmaker credit, too! I assure you I look quite nice when I am well-dressed.”
She threw back her graceful head and smiled at Annie with playful insolence, which was charming in such a beautiful girl; and, having got, for a time, to the end of her grievances, she gave a plaintive sigh, and then laughed at herself.
“I have been taking the privileges of a relative in boring you to death; but really my wrongs were getting too heavy to be borne in silence. It is very good of you to listen without yawning.”
“Oh, you don’t know how glad I am to see you and listen to you! I was afraid you would be so angry about Harry’s marrying me.”
“I won’t pretend we were glad to hear of it; but everything else was swallowed up in papa’s death. I don’t think mamma has quite forgiven either of you yet; but she will come round in time. And, you see, as I told her, if Harry hadn’t married you, George would have done so.”
Annie started, and the color rushed to her face.
“Oh, you need not look surprised! I am sure of it. He was much more in love with you than Harry was; and, to tell you the truth, when you had left Garstone, and nobody could tell what had become of you, I thought George was more likely than Harry to know where you were.”
She rattled on without taking much notice of Annie’s continued agitation. After a minute’s pause for breath, she added:
“And I did credit to your being a good little thing and a clever little thing, for George has far fewer scruples and far less sense of honor than even Harry, I can tell you. Harry is not a bad fellow at heart, though he is such a lout; there is no other word for him. Will you forgive my frankness? I am a pretty good judge of my brothers, and my knowledge may be useful to you.”
She rose from the sofa and took Annie’s trembling hand.