Selina, who was present at this conference, asked shrewdly: “Does Mama know that?”
Sophy laughed. “Not yet!” she admitted. “Do you think she does not care for large parties?”
“Oh, no! Why, there were more than four hundred people invited to the ball she gave for Maria, were there not, Cecilia? Mama enjoyed it excessively, because it was such a capital success, and everyone complimented her on it. Cousin Mathilda told me so.”
“Yes, but the cost of it!” Cecilia said. “She will not dare! Charles would be so angry!”
“Don’t give him a thought!” recommended Sophy. “It is Sir Horace who will bear the cost, not Charles. Make a list of all your acquaintances, Cecy, and I will make one of those of my friends who are in England, and then we will go out to order the cards. I imagine we shall not need more than five hundred.”
“Sophy,” said Cecilia, in a faint voice, “are we going to send out five hundred invitations without even asking Mama?”
Imps of mischief danced in her cousin’s eyes. “Of course we are, dear goose! For once we have despatched them, even your horrid brother cannot recall them!”
“Oh, famous, famous!” cried Selina, beginning to skip round the room. “ What a rage he will be in!”
“ Dare I?” breathed Cecilia, at once scared and dazzled.
Her sister begger her not to be poor spirited, but it was Sophy who clinched the matter, by pointing out to her that she would not have to bear the responsibility and was unlikely to incur much recrimination from her brother, who would have no hesitation in laying the blame at the right door.