Freddy, overhearing, said severely: “Yes, but there’s no need for you to spread it all over town, Jasper!”
“I c-couldn’t resist it!” said Mr. Stonehouse frankly. “D-didn’t you admire ‘em, Freddy?”
Since Mr. Standen felt strongly on the subject, it was fortunate that his sister created a diversion at that moment by calling Kitty’s attention to a box on the opposite side of the house. “Look, Kitty! There is the Chevalier, just come in with Lady Maria Yalding and her sister! Freddy I If she has not brought Drakemire with her! Well!”
Kitty, following the direction of her eyes, saw a party of four people in the box. A stout woman, very fashionably dressed but neither beautiful nor in quite the first blush of youth, was disposing herself in her chair, assisted by the Chevalier, who held her fan and her reticule for her, and carefully arranged her elaborately trimmed cloak over the back of the chair. A thinner edition of herself, who bore more the appearance of a hired companion than of a sister, sat down beside her, somewhat perfunctorily attended by the fourth member of the party, a dessicated man with a misogynistic expression.
“Lady Maria is the fat one, and that’s her elder sister, Lady Jane,” explained Meg. “Annerwick’s daughters, you know: he has five, and all as plain as puddings! No fortune, of course: Mama says that old Lord Annerwick ran through thirty thousand pounds before he was twenty-five years old even!”
“Good gracious!” said Kitty, looking in surprise towards Lady Maria’s box. “I had supposed her to be very rich indeed! She wears so many jewels and feathers!”
“Oh, yes! For, by the luckiest chance, Mr. Yalding wished to marry her, and although he was quite an ungenteel person—I believe, in fact, a merchant!—the Annerwicks could not but be thankful.”
“Didn’t want to marry her,” interpolated Freddy. “Wanted to be in the ton. Offered for the Calderbank girl first, but he smelled too much of the shop for Calderbank. Queer old fellow! Didn’t do him much good, either. Nailed up a couple of years ago.”
“N-no, but it d-did Lady M-Maria good,” said Mr. Stonehouse. “He left his whole f-fortune to her. She saw to that! D-dragon of a female!” He glanced across the house. “Stupid, too. Who’s the young b-blade making—” He stopped abruptly, his question cut short by a nip from Meg’s fingers.
But Freddy, who had moved beyond the reach of his sister’s hand, answered it. “Cousin of Miss. Charing’s. French fellow. Think he’s dangling after her, Kit?”