“There is not any reason, but I do not play Whist or Commerce, and I find such parties quite abominable.”
“That need not concern you, for whatever Sylvester’s views may have been, I feel sure that my mother will agree that it would be improper for you to go out in public immediately after his death.”
“But if I am not to go to any parties, what then am I to do in Bath?”
“Well, I suppose you will have to reconcile yourself to a period of quiet.”
“Quiet?” gasped Eustacie. “ More quiet? No, and no, and no!”
He could not help laughing, but said: “Is it so terrible?”
“Yes, it is!” said Eustacie. “First I have to live in Sussex, and now I am to go to Bath—to play backgammon! And after that you will take me to Berkshire, where I expect I shall die.”
“I hope not!” said Shield.
“Yes, but I think I shall,” said Eustacie, propping her chin in her hands and gazing mournfully into the fire. “After all, I have had a very unhappy life without any adventures, and it would not be wonderful if I went into a decline. Only nothing that is interesting ever happens to me,” she added bitterly, “so I dare say I shall just die in childbed, which is a thing anyone can do.”
Sir Tristram flushed uncomfortably. “Really, Eustacie!” he protested.