“Then we shall put the blame on the shoulders of that thousand, wheresoever they may be found, and for my part I shall not hold a second thousand altogether blameless—my indignation may even extend to a third. Now, that's the last word I mean to speak about the book. It has by this time reached the bottom of the sea on which I threw it; and there let it lie!”
“You are an angel—I see that plainly now.”
“Ah, there you see, what I said was true: I am much better for the rebuke I talked about; you never perceived before that I was an angel. Now let that be the last word between us on the subject of my poor little 'Evelina.' Her entrance into the world has proved fatal. Oh, Susy, she was stillborn, but her parent is making a rapid recovery.”
“That may be; but cannot you join with me in——”
“I will join with you in maintaining silence on the subject of the little one. I cannot bear to hear her name mentioned. I refuse to say another word about her or her fate. She must have been greatly beloved of the gods to die so young. Let that be 'Evelina's' epitaph. I will say nothing more about her.”
It so happened, however, that she was compelled to say a good deal more on the subject, for within half an hour Cousin Edward had called, and he began to talk of “Evelina” at once.
“I went to Hill's library in the Strand yesterday, to get a book for mother, and there, sure enough, I saw your 'Evelina,'” said he. “I asked the man in charge what it was about, and he replied that he didn't know; it was bad enough, he thought, to be compelled to hand out books all day to readers without being forced to read them for himself; but he supposed that 'Evelina' was a novel of the usual sort.”
“That was not extravagant praise,” remarked Susy.
“He didn't mean to praise it,” said Edward. “But when I asked him if anyone who had read it had recommended it, he admitted that every one of the five ladies who had read it was ready to speak well of it—one of them had taken it away a second time; and—would you believe it?—while I was standing at the counter a footman entered the shop with a demand for 'Eveliena,' as he called it; and he carried off the copy that was already on the desk.”
“For the delectation of the servants' hall?” suggested Fanny.