It was a long and a wearisome task that unpacking, and often did Agnes, as the sun shone in upon them while they performed it, think of her pleasant walks with her new friends, and long to breathe again the air that blew upon her as she stood on the top of St. Vincent's rocks.
Mrs. Barnaby, on the contrary, was wholly present to the work before her; and though she waxed weary and warm before it was completed, her spirits never flagged, but appeared to revive within her at every fresh deposit of finery that she came upon, and again and again did she call upon Agnes and Jerningham to admire the skill with which she had stowed them.
At length the work was done, and every disposable corner of her room filled; under the bed, over the bed, in the drawers, and upon the drawers, not an inch remained unoccupied by some of the widow's personalities.
It was by this time so late that the cake scheme was given up, and the drawing-room being restored to order, the two ladies sat down to tea. It was then that Mrs. Barnaby's genius displayed itself in sketching plan's for the future: she had learned from Mrs. Peters and the simple-minded Elizabeth, during their drive to and from Bristol, all particulars respecting the Clifton balls, and moreover that the Peters family seldom failed to attend them.
"This will be quite enough to set us going respectably: people that come in their own carriage, must have influence. I trust that those stupid humdrums, the Wilmots, gave you some dancing lessons, Agnes?"
"Yes, aunt."
"You are always so short in your answers, you never tell me anything. Do you think you could get through a quadrille without blundering?"
"Yes, I hope so, aunt."
"Remember, if you can't, I shall be most dreadfully angry, for it would destroy all my plans entirely.—I mean, Agnes, that you shall dance as much as possible;—nothing extends one's acquaintance among young men so much. I am not quite sure myself about dancing. I don't think I shall do it here, on account of dear Margaret ... perhaps she might think it too soon. I shall probably take to cards; that's not a bad way of making acquaintance either; but in all things remember that you play into my hands, and whenever you have a new partner remember that you always say to him, 'You must give me leave to introduce you to my aunt'.... Do you hear me, Agnes?"
"Yes, aunt," replied the poor girl with an involuntary sigh.