‘For a young gentlewoman of Carrie’s parts and appearance she leads by far too quiet a life, sir,’ said her Ladyship. ‘And now that I am returned to town, I am resolved that Carrie shall make the figure she ought in Society. ’Twas her good mother’s desire, I feel certain, and, moreover, Carrie herself will delight in it.’
‘Perhaps you speak truly, Charlotte,’ said Sebastian, ‘and for certain my Carrie hath charms enough and to spare. I fear you’ll have some difficulty with her adorers ere long if you take her into Society, as you call it; but if the girl is of the same mind with yourself, I have naught to say against it.’
Lady Mallow thought Carrie rather lack-lustre over this generous proposal. She did not seem to wish much to go to balls and routs, though she was far too good-natured to show her disinclination very openly—still there was a want of that exuberant whole-heartedness in the pursuit of pleasure which used to characterise her at one time. Carrie only smiled her charming smile and said—
‘You are most kind, madam; ’twill be most agreeable, I am certain.’
She did not even kindle to great interest over her new dresses. What was the use? Philip would not see them.
Lady Mallow’s ‘circle,’ as she would have called it, received the beautiful Caroline Shepley with open arms. She might have danced her pretty little feet off had she had a mind to, and might have had her head turned round on her shoulders if the compliments she received had only seemed to her worth the getting. But, alas, Carrie listened coldly to all the compliments that were showered upon her. She judged every man she met by one standard—Philip,—and none of them ever came up to it. There was indeed about Philip a certain careless elegance quite unattainable, or at least quite unattained, by the other young men of Carrie’s acquaintance. He was not particular about anything he said or did, yet it seemed to Carrie he could say or do with impunity what, if done by any other man, would have offended her in every way. Lady Mallow made matters worse by continually urging Carrie to think seriously about this or that man who paid her attentions.
‘Indeed, my dear niece, you should not be so saucy; for all your looks and the little money your good father may leave you, you will be left a maiden lady—that pitiable being,—if you despise good offers such as those of Mr. Sedgebrooke and Captain Cole, as pretty-mannered gentlemen both as you are like to meet, of good family (though untitled), and personable men to look at. Sedgebrooke hath a thousand a year to his fortune, and the Captain, though not so well to do, is an officer and a gentleman—two very good things.’ Thus Lady Mallow.
But Carrie was obdurate.
‘I cannot abide Sedgebrooke, madam, and for Cole, the sight of his hands is enough for me—bah, I hate fat hands: the hands of a gentleman should be thin and brown by my way of thinking.’
So both of these eligible gentlemen were refused. But as time wore on Lady Mallow was pleased to observe how much brighter Carrie had become. Her eyes had an exquisite sparkle, she seemed always smiling. ‘Society hath begun to brighten Carrie,’ she said to Sebastian, who growled, and remarked that he had never thought her dull. It was not Society, however, that was brightening Carrie, but the fact that Phil had returned to town.