“Hooray!” Mary indulged in an enthusiastic wave of the tea-pot which happily was rather less than half full. “Which means, my dear Miss Wren, that one of these days there’s just a chance of your being my lady.”
“As though that could possibly matter!” cried Milly upon a note of the finest scorn imaginable.
“As though that could possibly matter!” Mary’s reproduction of the note in question was so humorously exact that it sent her victim into a fit of laughter.
But Mrs. Wren had her word to say on the subject. In her opinion, which was that of all sensible people, it mattered immensely.
“As though it could!” persisted Milly.
“My dear,” said Mrs. Wren, “that is shallow and ignorant. A baronetcy is a baronetcy. All people of breeding think so, anyway.”
The prospect of Uncle Jacob’s elevation had already been canvassed in Broad Place by Charles, his nephew. There was evidently something in the wind Whitehall way. Uncle Jacob had professed such a heroic indifference to Aunt Priscilla’s intelligent anticipations, that even Charles, his nephew, the simplest of simple souls, and a singularly unworldly young man, had been constrained to take an interest in the matter. As for Aunt Priscilla, she had been in such a state of flutter for the past two months, that the upper servants at Thole Park, Maidstone, even had visions of an earldom. Still, as Mr. Bryant, the butler, who in his distinguished youth had graduated at Bridport House, Mayfair, remarked to Mrs. Jennings the housekeeper in his statesmanlike way, “The Limit for baby’s underclothing is a baronetcy.”
II
Breakfast was just at an end when the trim parlormaid came into the room with a portentous-looking milliner’s box. It had that moment arrived, and on examination was found to contain a long coat of sable. This enchanting garment was with Mary’s best wishes for future happiness.
The donor was scolded roundly for her lavishness, but Milly was delighted by the gift, and Mrs. Wren, who had professed a stern determination to be no longer friends with Mary was rather touched. She well knew that she was a person “to bank on.” Besides, Mrs. Wren had an honest admiration for a fine talent and the unassumingness with which it was worn. She was incapable of making an enemy, for her one idea was to bring pleasure to other people. If ever human creature had been designed for happiness it must have been this girl, yet none could have been more fully bent on casting it willfully away.